Coup de Grâce
by sloangrey
Summary: Lexie Grey met Mark Sloan entirely by chance. She would have thought that after twenty something years, she had had enough of letting circumstance do the dictating in her life, turning her world inside out completely. She was wrong. AU.
1. Prologue

**It feels like it's been absolute ages since writing one of these, and yet...here we are. Another fandom, another fic that will probably be the death of me (and maybe you, who knows). For those of you who are just now joining me, I'm Emily, I used to be blonde and somehow I made all A's during fall semester while simultaneously clearing through all thirteen seasons of Grey's Anatomy. I've written a few things for this fandom that I've kept mostly to myself because I obviously hopped on the bandwagon a little late, but I figured might as well dip my toe in and test the water and we can always go from there. Fingers crossed I won't drown. This is an AU, and I'll get into technicalities if need be later on in the story but just know that any and all mistakes or factual errors I've made from here on out are entirely accidental, I've done about as much research as one can possibly do for a fanfic and that leads me into the fact that this is a fanfiction. Let's all be nice, shall we? Anyways, I own nothing, which is unfortunate seeing as how if I did, things would go so differently. I'll shut up now. Onwards.**

* * *

 **Prologue**

The walls were the color of an eggshell, large expanses of colorless and pallid surface that Lexie's eyes kept fixed to. She stared, stared until she could feel tears begin to sprout in the corners of her eyes and she started to see colors she knew were certainly not there. Color implied vibrancy, life, and she was certain the world around her was hollow. The world was the same as the walls.

Eyes burned on her, eyes that had been trying to make the slightest hole at seeing through her and had yet to see the surface show any signs of cracking. Lexie chose to stare at the wall, her hands overlapping the other and her thumb circling around and around mindlessly on the surface of her palm until the path it had made was engrained in her skin and starting to lose feeling. Her lips remained sewn shut, even though there was plenty of commotion stirring behind the walls, her thoughts ricocheting off the sides of her head in a language she still didn't comprehend.

If there had been an analog clock in the room, Lexie would have been able to hear each second tick by at an agonizing rate, driving her slowly into madness. She preferred the silence, anyways.

"Lexie," a voice tore straight through the quiet, calm and a little too smooth for Lexie's liking as it left the last defense she had standing in tatters, and she felt herself bristle at the mere sound of anything other than her own breathing. "Lexie, your session is almost over."

Lexie said nothing, merely blinked a few times and let the walls refocus in her line of sight. Started to study the bumps and raising along the wall where someone else might have missed them, but she couldn't possibly see past them after looking right at them like a gaping hole for the last hour.

A pen clicked, the sound of rustling paper followed as it likely folded back over to where it belonged—Lexie wasn't sure why, there hadn't been really much to take note of to begin with—and then as controlled of a sigh as a person could possibly manage without coming across as anything other than professional. _Ten._

 _Nine._ She'd be out of here soon enough.

That was the game, wasn't it; counting the seconds until she could get out of here only to retreat back into the same old same old. _Eight._

 _Seven._ Lexie didn't know what was better, sitting here for an hour and having someone wait on her to make the move, or sitting back at home and everyone trying to goad her along.

Definitely at home. The walls were at least a less clinical shade of white. She also had a lock on her bedroom door. _Six._

 _Five._ She'd done this countdown a few times before, had it drawn to a science after the first go round.

It was nice having the time though, the time where she got to live in her head and not withdraw. _Four._

 _Three._ Well, not withdraw on her own accords. Usually her family pulled her out kicking and screaming whether she was up for it or not.

 _Two._

The rest of the quiet was taken down similar to a cobweb as a knock on the door tore Lexie from the still, the knock only serving as a courtesy call before the door came swinging open, groaning as it revealed Meredith. "Lex," Meredith said, her voice unnaturally gentle, an attempt at coaxing Lexie along that went all in vain. "You ready to go?"

Those were the words, the right ones anyways, Lexie's head turning away from the wall after the one last second that her sister had unknowingly stolen from her passed and things were moving right back along schedule. "Yeah," she replied in a scratchy and strangled manner. "Yeah, let's go."

As she made her way towards the door, she purposefully kept her sights trained ahead, away from her company whom she was sure was watching her wistfully as she went. Lexie had nothing to say, nothing at all, and she moved right over the threshold without a single inch of her itching to look back as she went. From the corner of her eye, beneath the little hairs tickling her forehead and eyebrows, she caught a glimpse of Meredith looking back into that room still, questions and desperation coloring her features. She was met with disappointment, most likely.

Lexie had only had to do this twice now to understand how it was going to work. Everything was a cycle, innocent evolve to vicious, and eventually the final blow that either sent one hurtling from the trenches of the rut or made it a permanent bed to lie in. This cycle was one of the more uncomfortable ones, and so she kept silent through it all.

"How was your session today?" Meredith tried asking on the ride home, most likely a means to get her talking. There was once a time where that had never been much of a problem, words falling naturally from Lexie's lips without barely turning the faucet on. Now it took a little more prodding.

"Okay," Lexie muttered, her thumb spinning around and around as it traced the surface of her palm.

"What'd you talk about?"

"We didn't talk."

"This is your fourth week now, you have to start talking at some point," Meredith sighed. Lexie shrugged, her shoulders rolling as she leaned back a little further into the seat.

"It's my time, Meredith, I can waste it if I want to."

Meredith didn't bother to say anything else after that. Lexie could see that her sister was growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of progress; had Meredith had it her way, the world would spin on the axis at a speed she liked it and things wouldn't extend out of the realm of how she wanted them. She saw things through one lens and very rarely did she try and shift gears, and Lexie knew her sister wasn't going to budge on this.

They arrived back at the house, and Lexie begrudgingly went about letting Meredith help her out of the car, keeping her lips pressed tight together as she complied. The sound of the wheelchair hitting the pavement, as much as it still made her recoil, had grown familiar. Her finger kept doing laps around her palm as she made the transition from passenger seat to wheelchair, Meredith's arms waiting for the worst to happen as always.

Lexie could do this in her sleep, quite literally, but as long as Meredith's watchful eye was around, she would have assistance whether it was wanted and appreciated or not.

She rolled herself up the walkway as soon as she'd gotten adjusted, leaving Meredith behind still trying to fetch the rest of her belongings from the car. Derek usually left the door unlocked, something he'd always done and never thought twice about and was now becoming something of a hazard, especially with the addition of Zola, who seemed to have quite the fascination with doorknobs these days. It made Lexie's life a hell of a lot easier though, and that was part of the reason she had the inkling Derek had continued to leave it unlocked despite Meredith's berating. Because it made Lexie's life a little bit easier, and for that very reason did it aggravate her. She leaned over, pushing the door open before pushing herself across the threshold with a sound thump.

Derek didn't have to see with his own two eyes to know who had entered the house. "Lex, you in the mood for breakfast for dinner?" he called from the kitchen.

"Sure, I guess," she called back monotonously. Derek's head appeared from around the door frame, his lips turned up in a thin smile.

"Good thing, since I already started it." Of course he had. No one had to tell her that; the smell of bacon had all but punched her in the stomach the minute she opened the door.

Derek, ever the faithful older brother, a bit more tolerable over the last few months than Meredith was just because he hadn't been as stubborn with her recovery in the way Meredith had. Derek was steadfast in his belief Lexie would heal on her own time, and it would take more than just a few weeks, and she needed enough room to breathe in order to do so. If she needed them, she'd say. It was a quiet appreciation she held for Derek; Lexie had never been one to openly drown him in her gratitude through a form of affection, but rather the small reassurance of a smile across the way. She'd never thought there would come a day where she favored her brother in law over her sister, mostly because for the longest time she looked at Meredith like she'd hung a couple of stars in the sky even when she stole the sun out from Lexie's.

Lexie slowly maneuvered herself into the living room, mostly to get and stay out of the way of the sure commotion that was coming. Zola would come running straight for Meredith the minute she came through the door, and while Zola adored Lexie, no one held a candle to her mother. The sound of the door being pushed back open was faint over the sound of the TV that Derek had left on, but Lexie heard it well enough. "Dry cleaning's in the living room," Derek yelled out to Meredith as she shut the door behind her, throwing her bag down onto the floor next to the exit like usual. It surely wasn't directed at Lexie by any means.

No matter, Lexie had already found it.

Meredith came strolling in, casually, surely not expecting her sister to be sitting right in front of the couch's arm staring at a pile of clothes all wrapped in plastic. She came to a halt, startled, only having to take one glance at the look on Lexie's face and at the dry cleaning resting on the couch to know that this was a very, very bad situation they'd accidentally landed in. Lexie's eyes were still fixed on the article of clothing at the top of the pile, and had her sister not known any better, she would have been wise in assuming she was no longer breathing.

"Lexie," Meredith started, quiet and careful as she made her advance. "Lex, I didn't know he had it cleaned."

"I know," Lexie muttered discordantly, feeling her throat starting to close in on itself. The black dress glared at her through the polyethylene, mocking her with a cruel smirk. She could feel the dull ache in her chest start throbbing again and again and if she knew where it had originated, she would have forcibly ripped it out. Instead, she just stared at the black dress, her mind reeling, body frozen, and Meredith's face crumpled in the distance.

"If I'd known, I would have told him not to bother."

"Just...I don't want to see it anymore," Lexie said, her hand lifting to cradle her temple as she winced.

"Lexie, I'm so—"

"Just get it out of here!" Normally, the flare-up would have evoked a little more emotion in her voice, but nothing in her tone changed, just the volume. Meredith took that as her cue, reaching in and dragging the bags off the couch by the hangars as quickly as she could, not caring if the edges hit the floor and trailed off behind her. Lexie pursed her lips, her hand closing in over her eyes as she tried to keep the exhale pushing its way through her nose as quiet as possible. Meredith was going to give Derek a sure piece of her mind later. Dinner would be an awkward affair. Lexie would spend the rest of the night in her bedroom staring at the ceiling. It wasn't news to her by any means, this was the routine she'd more or less wound up in.

 _Only day 143_ , she thought bitterly to herself.

* * *

 **I know things seem a little weird right now and everyone might seem a little off their usuals but I promise things are going to make a little more sense here shortly. Reviews are always greatly, _greatly_ appreciated and they motivate a girl to update faster, just saying. And, like I said, I have some other GA stuff lurking around (it's pretty much all Mark/Lexie and Meredith/Derek) so let me know if you'd maybe be interested in seeing some of that in the near future as well? Just come talk to me. I like talking to people. xo**


	2. Chapter One

**Hello my lovelies, welcome back to another fun (fun being a very loose term of course) update of CDG, I have to firstly thank you to pieces for all your kindness towards the prologue, I left things very very vague in the beginning and I hope you're excited to start filling in the pieces. To quote my friend Drew, if _I_ realize this fic is angsty, we're all in for it. I also think that some of you may need the little distraction from everything taking place today so please do feel free to lose yourself inside this universe and just escape the outside world for a little bit. As always, this is a fanfiction and therefore everything should be taken with a grain of salt, and I regrettably own nothing. Without any further ado, here we go!**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Lexie Grey came home the same way she left: alone.

She hadn't minded leaving by herself, that was how she'd wanted to go. Very much like a shadow in the night, Lexie wanted to slip away quietly the minute Harvard put the diploma in her hands, without tearing up some sort of wake in her departure. She was running, of course, far away from something she knew like the pattern of veins in her palms but towards what, she didn't quite know. All she knew was that she was alone, that she could certainly survive and thrive being alone and that was all that mattered in the end.

Coming home alone had nearly killed her.

She'd come home to people, sure. She'd come home to Meredith and Derek who had now finalized their marriage beyond that ridiculous post-it note that they thought was unconventional and therefore all the more romantic, actually had court documentation of their union, and had taken on adopting a little girl named Zola that they'd met on one of Derek's cases at the hospital where he worked. She'd come home whenever she got the chance, but it was always different. She'd been herself in full, there had been a sense of purpose still twinkling their in her eyes, there had been someone on the other side waiting for her to go back. This time when she had come home, there had been no one with her, not even herself.

Instead, she was just a shell, as Meredith referred to her as behind closed doors when she thought Lexie was too occupied in getting to know her niece or when the volume on the TV was up loud enough to cover her voice. Lexie was a shell, plain and simple, and someone should have _stopped_ her from even doing any of this in the first place.

"Where the hell was Thatcher when she made the decision to run off and serve? Look at her, Derek, she barely tips the scale at a hundred pounds! You mean to tell me that she was _eligible_?"

"Your sister's a good surgeon, Meredith," Derek would reason quietly, Lexie's steady advocate no matter what Meredith sent hurtling his way. "They needed just as many doctors over there as they do soldiers. You can't just call up the United States Army and give them hell for letting your sister do her job, and besides, she told you why she went." _**Lie** , sort of_, Lexie would think to herself. She'd always told Meredith why she'd decided to be a surgeon, not why she'd decided to do it in an entirely different setting than the traditional hospital. "It was her decision. She's not a little girl."

"And look what it did to her," Meredith would seethe. "Look what _he_ did to her."

At that point, Lexie would either absorb herself even further into Zola's cooing noises or mindlessly press down on the 'volume up' button on the remote, her eavesdropping brought to a nice screeching halt.

Lexie didn't like to be reminded of the fact she was at home by herself with a handful of broken promises that stacked up to the exact height of the looming wheelchair parked right next to her.

. . .

"It's PT day," Derek announced the next morning cheerfully, and had Lexie possessed the energy to do so, she would have sighed and dramatically flung her head on the table. Instead, she sat there, trying to keep her focus primarily on Zola. Zola, the reason for her smiles now because there was no way in hell she could keep anything less on her face just looking at that little girl; Zola, what felt like the only tether Lexie even had keeping her tied to the ground. Zola was already sitting next to Lexie, her hands clapping together as Derek tried to finish up breakfast.

"What time is Meredith pulling out of the driveway?" Lexie asked. Derek glanced over his shoulder, one of his eyebrows cocked.

"Meredith got called in early this morning, so I'm taking you today." Within a second, Lexie felt her stomach plummet down to her knees. Lexie had only gotten a couple of hours of sleep, all spread out thin over the night, and she was trying to wrack her brain to recall her hearing her sister shuffling around and leaving. She'd memorized the sounds of everyone's footsteps and Meredith's were very distinctive—hurried, not bothering to pick her feet up off the ground as she moved around, only bringing down any amount of pressure on the floorboards when she was angry or trying to get a point across. Meredith must have been called in fairly early, judging at how Lexie failed to recollect anything.

The look on her face must not have fared well in Derek's eyes, because immediately his eyebrows furrowed together, beginnings of a frown showing on his face. "You don't mind my taking you, do you? I didn't know if you and Meredith had any sort of special..."

"No," Lexie finished for him, shaking her head. "No, that's okay." She had no idea where he was sprouting the idea of any sort of tradition from; Lexie usually all but kicked Meredith out of PT the minute she got there. No point in having an audience. Meredith would simply drive her there, wait until the session was over, and then take her back home. Some days she'd try and mix it up a little, stop by one of Lexie's favorite restaurants and sway her with the idea of lunch, but at that point Lexie was already so physically and emotionally drained she had no room to get upset about the lack in routine, she was just ridiculously tired and ready to get home.

Lexie had the feeling that going with Derek would be an entirely different playing field altogether. She pressed her lips down in a thin smile when she caught Derek still looking at her expectantly. "Really, Derek. It's okay," she repeated. Only then was he assured enough to return to his stove top.

PT days were almost as bad as therapy days, but at least with PT days she had already grown accustomed to them. They had started the very second she crossed back over onto American soil, the minute she was conscious enough to understand that they had been forced to remove her left leg even though Lexie was pretty positive it was gone before they'd gotten to her, and PT was supposed to be of assistance, to help. It was like a cruel, cruel joke, everything over these last few months and she was constantly on the wrong end of it: every single time someone told her they were only trying to help, it felt like the exact opposite of such. And every single time, she kept insisting that it was all okay, even if it really wasn't.

It was a whole lot easier than dumping out months and months of problems on the people who had graciously taken her under their wing in her hour of need. Her very painfully, excruciatingly long hour. So Lexie went about doing her best to stay wrapped up in Zola throughout breakfast, watching as her niece made shreds of her pancakes, while trying to tune out Derek's attempts at small talk.

She got the feeling he wasn't going to be like Meredith, sitting in the waiting room or the car flipping through old magazines for her session.

Lexie excused herself from breakfast around the same time Zola started reaching for Derek, for him to get her out of her seat, much to Derek's dismay. She could feel his eyes follow her as she maneuvered through the kitchen, heading straight back to her bedroom; they were blue, swollen with concern, and relatively disappointed to see she had barely touched her banana pancakes.

* * *

"We've got incoming." Lexie's ears pricked up, back straightening as she pulled herself off the empty table she'd taken her refuge on, idly twisting the chain of her dog tags around her index finger while they sat around and more or less, killed time waiting. It hadn't been the most eventful day in the books; granted, Lexie didn't have much to go on seeing as how she'd only been at this for a little over a week now, but she was sure that not having much to do was a rarity.

Her feet landed on the ground, a small cloud of dust following after. "Incoming?" she repeated, her eyes locking onto the face that she assumed belonged to the voice as well, the same face that had just peered into their tent.

The man nodded about the same time Lexie's eyes drifted down to where his name tape was. _Hunt_. "ETA fifteen minutes. Don't have many more details other than that."

For the first time all day, Lexie was excited to do _something_ other than the watch wind flap the openings of the tent back and forth, and of course, do her best not to eavesdrop on Avery and Kepner's conversations—they made that hard though, Kepner didn't seem to understand any other volume level besides _loud_. She hadn't come out here with the intent of sitting on her ass and twirling her hair around, she'd come out here to do something. "Gear up for the worst, they're coming via chopper," Hunt added, before disappearing entirely from view.

Kepner had already sprung to her feet, moving around the tent like the very force of nature she was. She certainly wasn't Lexie's favorite person by any means; hell, the woman gave her a headache just by watching her in action at the rate she moved, it was similar to witnessing a tornado rip a town to shreds. But Kepner got things done, and currently Lexie wasn't moving at the same frequency as her which meant she was either going to bulldoze her over or at least make the courtesy to warn her out of the way.

"Grey, go outside, wait with Hunt." Another thing she wasn't quite keen on: April Kepner being something like her superior. Waiting with Hunt, however, seemed like a much more plausible alternative, one that wouldn't result in her losing her cool before the real shit hit the fan.

Lexie nodded, and made her way out of the tent, hand finally letting her tags loose.

The sun burned through her the second she stepped outside; today wasn't as brutally scorching as Lexie knew it could be. She was lucky she'd gotten out here in the middle of October, and not in the middle of July when you were counting your blessings for a hundred degrees even. Hunt was standing off in the clearing, his back to her as he watched the sky, waiting for the incoming to arrive. Squaring her shoulders, she started off to meet him.

It was always something different each day, an affirmation that was certainly rang just as true in the regular hospital setting. Lexie hadn't minded being in the hospital at all, she'd go so far as to say she enjoyed it, even, but there was no comparison between there and here. In the past couple of days here, there had been more exhilaration on an entirely new scale than she'd ever felt at Mass Gen. Every day was a game, someone had once told her, and every single day the rules changed.

No doubt she had changed the rules, flipped them entirely on their head. She was supposed to be at home still, milling around the hospital and sitting at the bar across the street to put off going home as long as possible. The military had never once been in the cards, and then suddenly, that was the only card she had left in her deck and she was keeping it close to her chest.

She could still remember the look on her father's face when she told him that she wasn't going to be staying in Boston, she wasn't even going to be staying in the United States, period. It felt like a whole other lifetime ago, standing in front of him and telling him she was leaving for Baghdad in just the right amount of time that ensured he wouldn't, he couldn't have a say in her decision on going. She remembered the look in his eyes, how there was nothing but apathy and resentment where pride and perhaps even an ounce of grief should have been.

Lexie missed her father long before she'd left, really.

She stood next to Hunt, hand shielding her eyes as the black dot in the sky she presumed to be the chopper grew closer and closer to base. "Any idea what might have happened?" she yelled over the sound of the wind, turning her head for only a moment to glance in his direction. He merely shook his head.

They stood in silence, waiting, and Lexie felt her heart begin to throb in her chest at the anticipation. She thought surgery had been a drug before; surgery was the only the gateway. This was a thrill, a high she had never felt before and she thrived off of it. It was a calling, no doubt, but Lexie had never expected a calling to be this addictive. Adrenaline already started shooting through her body as she watched the sky and waited, waited, _waited_ for today's game to begin.

Closer and closer, the black dot in the sky grew.

* * *

"Morning, Grey," Dr. Torres, or as she insisted on being called, _Callie_ , greeted her with a smile on her face as Lexie wheeled herself into the room, Derek right on her heels. It had taken nearly all the willpower she could muster not to tear his head off when he'd tried pushing her along after they got out of the car. She was handicapped, not helpless.

"Morning, Torres," she replied, and when she looked up, she was being greeted by a kinked eyebrow and a frown. "Callie."

"How are we feeling today?"

"Same as every other day," was Lexie's dry response. She at least forced a closed-lipped smile on her face, trying to lighten some of the gravity she'd dragged into it. Dr. Torres knew good and well Lexie wasn't the most positive of people as of late and she'd learned to take it with a grain of salt.

This was why she didn't necessarily _mind_ PT days, not as much as she did with sit-down therapy. Callie knew she wasn't coming in here to have all sorts of emotional epiphanies and lessen her conscience a little, make it through her journey as her therapist so liked to describe it, she came to PT to get shit done and have her life back on a semi-regular track.

"As long as you're ready to work," Callie said. Her eyes moved past Lexie to where Derek was, a much brighter smile spreading over her lips. "Dr. Shepherd, nice to see you."

Derek had been the one to recommend Callie when Lexie had her leg amputated; they'd been coworkers for a brief period of time and Derek didn't want anything less than the absolute best for his sister-in-law taking care of her rehabilitation. Meredith hadn't known up from down at the time, still trying to balance a new child and now the unexpected addition of her younger half-sister who had been inches from death the minute they'd got her back in Seattle, so Derek had made all the decisions. Not that Lexie minded, of course, but she could sense a recurring theme from both Meredith and Derek's attempts to help her, and they varied drastically. Derek's tended to grate her nerves a little more because they came out of a place of sheer ingenuity and concern and it made it a little harder to display any chagrin towards.

"Callie," he greeted warmly. "Haven't seen you in awhile."

"Meredith get called into work or something? You're usually not the, well, the usual."

Derek nodded. "Lex is stuck with me today." Lexie tried to maintain the smile up on her lips, but she could feel her muscles working overtime to keep up appearances mostly for Derek's sake. Usually, she didn't have to come in here and grin the whole way through, she got to be frustrated in here and let it show. She took great advantage of that.

"Well, I guess we'll go ahead and get started," Callie continued, her line of sight moving back to Lexie as she helped her transition over onto the bed. "I know that last time you weren't crazy about the first prosthetic we had, so today I figured we could test out a different one and then go from there?"

Lexie nodded, pressing her lips together. They'd only started working with the prosthetic legs only very recently; it had taken awhile for Lexie to even warm up to the idea of PT and they had still been working on a lot of the rehabilitation process up until her last session or so when Callie had brought out the first prosthetic. Needless to say, only a couple of minutes had passed into trying it out and Lexie had been done. She knew she couldn't stay in the wheelchair forever, she didn't _want_ to stay in it forever either, but it was just as grueling of a physical undertaking learning to walk all over again as it was an emotional and mental one.

It was when Callie walked off to go fetch the prosthetic that Lexie realized something was off, very off about the environment of the room, something that was never there before when she'd come. There was never this sort of discomfiture when she came to PT, and nothing was different from what it was normally. And then she realized that it _was_.

"What are you doing?" Lexie asked, her eyebrows furrowing together.

Derek looked up from his phone, only when he realized he was the one being addressed. "I'm sitting."

"I...I know that," she said. "I mean what are you _doing_?"

"I'm just sitting here for support, I suppose. Everyone can use a little support."

 _Wrong_ , Lexie thought. _Meredith sits in the hall because she knows it makes me uncomfortable. I don't need your presence as a crutch of support._

Callie returned with the prosthetic, beaming from ear to ear. "I think you're going to like this one," she began, and no sooner had she started did Lexie start tuning her out. The crawling sensation of discomfort kept rolling down her spine; Derek's setting up camp in the corner, sitting in a chair along the wall and his hands folded in his lap eager to watch and more than likely, help out where he could was slowly driving her into madness. The nonchalance in his presence, the way he thought he was doing no wrong by sitting here and giving her an audience.

"Derek, you don't have to stay for this," she pointed out, words falling from her mouth without any hopes of her catching them and holding them in. "Callie and I do just fine on our own."

"I'm fine staying," he said reassuringly. Lexie ground her teeth together tighter; he didn't realize he was intruding. He thought she was just trying to appease.

"I know, but I don't _need_ you to stay," Lexie explained slowly, trying not to spit out 'want' in the place of emphasis. She knew her bristling must have been bad, because Callie was quick to jump in as her defense.

"We usually do things by ourselves, Derek. I can take it from here, she's in good hands. You really don't have to sit in here and watch."

Derek shook his head, and if Lexie had known any better, she would have assumed he was offended by the suggestion. "I don't mind," he replied. "Do whatever, pretend I'm not here."

 _Not that simple,_ Lexie bitterly thought.

"We're just trying on a few prosthetics today, that's all," Callie insisted, once again trying to keep as Lexie's ally and prevent something that was rapidly approaching. "It's nothing you have to sit in here for, really."

"I told you, just pretend I'm not here," Derek repeated. "I won't say a word."

Lexie could feel the uneasiness start to radiate off of Callie as she uttered out what was more of a warning than a suggestion at this point. "Derek, you do not need to stay in here while we do this."

"Meredith sits in the hallway," Lexie informed him, her voice dangerously quiet. Callie nodded.

"Well, I'm not Meredith."

"Derek, please—"

"I'm not my wife, Callie, is it really such a crime for me to sit in here while you guys do the fittings?"

"Derek, I am telling you, you do not—"

"Would it kill you to just sit in the goddamn hallway?" Lexie finally fired off, reaching her breaking point as she steamrolled right over Callie. She didn't even realize her eyes had been clenched shut until they opened to reveal Derek, sitting straight up and shell-shock coloring over his face.

Normally, she would have rushed to take it back, maybe apologized for it, but there weren't such words floating around in her brain. Instead, she stared at him blankly for a moment before glancing away. "I don't need your help in here, Derek. Can you please...just, sit in the hall." Her voice cracked before fading out, hands entwining with one another almost immediately and her thumb started circling her palm right on cue.

Derek didn't try and resist, just silently rose from his chair and walked straight out of the double doors. As he passed, Lexie turned her head a little farther away, her eyes tightly locked onto the floor. Callie however followed, watching with a certain degree of sympathetic pain as Derek left and more or less let the doors slam behind him, the sound falling to a dull echo through the room.

Callie's eyes stayed on the doors for a moment, before slowly turning back around to face a flustered and all-too-still Lexie. "Well," she started, clapping her hands together awkwardly. "Let's get started, shall we?"

* * *

 **And that's the first chapter! Next chapter we're going to be meeting a very, very key player in all of this, and I think all of you will know who it is, but I like to keep you waiting with the cliffhangers, I find such joy in it which is rather unfortunate for you. Reviews inspire me to update faster, of course, and they always brighten my day. But seriously, review so I can give you more updates. I'm about as in love with this story as I am Chyler Leigh, and that says a lot. xo**


	3. Chapter Two

**Guess who's back! Sorry to disappoint, it's only me. It's actually somewhat sad how this story has taken over my life, I can't escape it no matter where I go or what I'm doing. The trials and tribulations of fanfic writing. Also, please please** ** _please_** **if you read this, please take a few moments to leave a review at the end! They keep me writing faster and let me know what you guys think of what I'm doing so far, and I love love love to hear your thoughts and ideas since I have a rough outline of this story and would love to work in any ideas or suggestions you guys have as we go along. I just want to enjoy this story with you, my lovely readers, is that so much to ask? I really hope you enjoy this chapter though, we're finally going to meet some very important people that I know you all have been missing...I'll stop talking now.**

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

The ride home from PT was silent; Lexie had absolutely nothing to say to Derek and either Derek was still pissed or he was avoiding poking an already agitated bear knowing what the reaction would be if he did so again.

She deliberately ignored him even as he helped her out of the car and into the wheelchair, beelining straight for the door and then right for her bedroom door. Not before she briefly entertained the idea of going in reverse and rolling over Derek's feet just a little bit, enough to get the message across she was in no mood for company for the rest of the day.

Even if she was willing to talk to Derek, nothing productive had occurred in her session that deemed itself worthy for conversation material. It didn't surprised her in the least; after her momentary break in sanity things had steadily declined. She and Dr. Torres— _Callie_ —went through three prosthetic models, none of which did the job and resulted in Callie calling it early because she had nothing else in her bag of tricks out of the vain hope Lexie would have found at least one she remotely liked. Lexie could have told her as much. Nothing was going to be comfortable, because none of them were her real leg and that was the only comfort she knew and would accept. That of course segued right into her _other_ therapist, the shrink's area of the shit-show her life had somehow become, where she'd hear a whole load of bullshit about how she had to accept what had happened, that her real leg was gone and that this was her new normal.

Acceptance was everyone's favorite word, save for Lexie's. It was all _bullshit_ : something like this was never meant to be normal.

Accept this. Accept that. Accept, accept, accept; on and on it went, chasing her around in circles. Lexie knew at some point she'd have to get her act together; she was painfully aware of the fact she was burying her head further into denial and the inevitable truth everyone kept throwing in her face, that she had to accept everything that had happened and not just what she wanted to in order to move past it, that until she started putting forth a little effort nothing was going to get better for her. She'd heard it a thousand different ways that even if she was clueless, someone would have thrown her the right bone to bring her up to speed at this point.

It wasn't that she didn't comprehend, it was that she didn't want to act on it. She'd had to accept enough as it was, she figured she deserved a little leeway on all the other stuff.

That knowledge settled okay with Meredith for about two months after the funeral until they stopped seeing any progress entirely, and then she and Derek dragged Lexie into a 'come to Jesus' meeting about how Lexie had become a shell that was kept growing more and more hollow, and they were scared if they knocked her over, she'd crack. They'd collectively decided that she would start going to see a therapist, one of the very few suggestions they'd offered as advice to Meredith when Lexie was in the hospital when the time came, to try and start sorting out her feelings and emotions and get everything somewhat in check. Lexie couldn't have fought it even if she tried. She didn't have the energy to waste on starting an argument, and they were adamant about it to the point they would have tied her up and thrown her in the trunk of the car even if she refused. They'd reached their point and didn't care if Lexie was there or not.

Lexie just did what they'd asked of her (or really, _told_ her what she was doing) and had shown up at her first therapy session with her lips sealed like a vacuum.

Meredith spoke highly of the woman, Dr. Wyatt, explained how she was the best in Seattle and that Lexie was in good hands. Lexie knew she'd been manhandled enough and didn't like the idea of being within anyone else's clutches, but she'd nodded quietly as her sister kept singing her praises. It seemed as though Meredith was doing more to reassure herself she was doing the right thing, dragging Lexie to therapy, than she was Lexie.

"Ms. Grey, it's nice to meet you," Dr. Wyatt had said upon their first meeting, hand extended for Lexie to shake in greeting. Meredith was still holding on tightly to the handles on her wheelchair, and Lexie almost hadn't been able to meet the doctor halfway without coming close to falling over.

"It's Dr. Grey," Lexie had corrected her quietly.

"Dr. Grey," she'd rectified, before glancing up at Meredith. "Dr. Grey, you're more than welcome to wait out in the lobby until the session's over." That had been her kind way of telling Meredith to leave, possibly the one and only good thing that had come from therapy. Lexie almost found herself wishing for her sister to put a little more distance between them, even though she knew the chances of that happening were slim. Meredith had miraculously learned how to show concern and be a proper sister right when Lexie wanted nothing but her sister's scarcely shown, _normal_ way of expressing love.

"Your sister tells me you're dealing with PTSD. Is that true?" Dr. Wyatt's first question after they'd gotten Meredith to leave and started the session elicited a small shrug from Lexie, her shoulders barely lifting enough to even count. Dr. Wyatt continued to press. "She told me you were a surgeon serving over in Iraq."

Lexie was silent.

Every question Dr. Wyatt asked was returned with the same answer of silence. Every session Lexie stayed quiet, no matter what Dr. Wyatt tried. The woman asked about everything under the sun, even tried to let Lexie lead their conversations and ask what she wanted about her own life, but Lexie saw how it tied back to the root of the problem and kept her mouth shut. There was nothing she wanted to say.

Sitting in therapy didn't do her any good, but dragging up years of shit wouldn't benefit her either.

Not talking was always her best option these days. And that was what she did, rolling into her room and letting the door shut behind her, making a point to purposefully turn down on the lock that even the neighbors across the street could have heard to get the message across she wasn't looking to talk, not now and probably not later, either. Lexie could hear as Derek came in after her, kicking off his shoes at the door and the sound of them hitting the walls, his footsteps carrying him upstairs to Zola's room.

A heavy sigh pushed past her lips, her whole body shrinking from the release of pressure. Her eyes were already burning from the tears she'd swallowed down all day; Lexie refused to cry anymore in front of her family, she only did so behind closed doors. She didn't need any more reason for people to start tossing out condolences.

She carefully went about pulling herself onto her bed, something she knew she wasn't supposed to do on her own especially with a locked door, her breathing growing shorter and uneven in their rhythm the faster and faster the wave of emotions crept towards her. Her hand jutted out to the nightstand as soon as she was sure she'd gotten herself fully onto the bed, feeling around for the beginnings of what she was searching. Resting there, just like every other day wasn't one, but two sets of dog tags, and the edges of her fingers had just barely hooked on the edge of the chains before she yanked them off the table.

Lexie brought them close to her chest, her finger running over each individual letter on either pair of tags carefully, over and over again. She'd memorized the surface of each like it was the inside of her own hand, and yet, all this did was choke her up more than before. Her logic was she'd already had a shitty enough day, might as well let all her emotions rise to the surface in one go. She hated feeling like this; she hated going to PT and she hated getting herself into a scenario that required PT and all sorts of other therapy in the first place and she hated that she couldn't do anything other than get pissed off with Derek and Meredith or anyone else who tried to help her; she hated the fact she couldn't do anything else without the assistance of others anymore whether she wanted it like that or not, she hated the fact she needed help and she hated that she couldn't just willingly accept help either. She hated the fact she was holding two sets of tags instead of one.

She finally let herself shed a tear.

 **. . .**

Meredith Grey was incredibly skilled at many things; surgery, multitasking, and efficiently picking a lock with virtually anything in her hands among them. Today's object of choice in busting Lexie's door down was a stray bobby pin.

Lexie didn't even bother to look over to see who had intruded, because she knew.

Closing the door behind her in a much gentler fashion than she had opening it, Meredith walked over and sat down on the edge of her bed carefully, careful to give Lexie her space. She was quiet for a moment, Lexie's eyes still closed and hands knotted intricately in the dog tag chains. She knew Meredith could see the tear tracks still coloring her face and she was trying to find somewhere, anywhere to begin. Finally, she broke the silence with a sigh. "Derek told me you freaked out at PT today," Meredith said. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

Silence followed. Meredith awkwardly folded her hands together and let them rest in her lap, adjusting herself a little further back on the corner of the bed. "Lexie, you can't just sit here in silence and avoid all your problems by lying in your bed with the door locked."

"Says the woman who thought she could avoid all of her problems by laying in bed with her best friend as they drowned all their sorrows in tequila."

"My problems never—"

"Never what?" Lexie's eyes finally opened, casting down at where her sister was, both eyes glued to Lexie and her lips shut hastily to swallow whatever she was ready to say next because that's all Meredith did anymore, hold her tongue when she thought it was going to hurt Lexie's feelings. "Never what? Say it, Meredith, you were going to anyways. It's not gonna break me like you think it will."

"You've had an outburst just about every day over the last three weeks, Lexie. We all lose stuff, we all deal with our grief and loss and we get our shit together after it's done and over so we can move on."

"Yes, because you know all about loss," Lexie scoffed, head rolling back so she was staring back up at the ceiling. "Your mother. _A_ _lmost_ your job, _almost_ your husband, _almost_ your daughter, all of which you still have. I am so sorry, Queen of Loss, how _dare_ I think I know anything about what it means to lose something."

"This isn't how this works, Lexie," Meredith snapped. "You don't get to sit here and throw punches at me just because you're going through something, just because we're trying to help you even though you won't let us."

"Because I don't need it."

"And that's our problem, right there. All Derek and I are trying to do is make things a little easier on you because we realize you've got it worse than any of us do, and all you're ready to do is pick a fight with one of us. You came home with baggage and that's okay, but we're not punching bags, you can't empty your frustrations on us whenever we just try to help."

Lexie propped herself up a little farther on her pillows, white knuckled grip on her dog tags as if they were a tangible grip on her slipping sanity. "Oh, for god's sake, Meredith, look around! You aren't helping me; not like this. What you're trying to do isn't help, this is you trying to catch me up to your pace so you don't have to deal with someone else's shit and we can move on to yours. I can't move on, you don't get that. I get frustrated because it's, it's like...I speak an entirely different language than the two of you and you don't listen to me."

"I'm sorry?"

"You...you don't listen to me! You act like I'm out of my mind whenever you try to help and it doesn't work and I acknowledge it. Yeah, sure, I...I came home with baggage and, ha, _surprise_ , it's heavier than you and Derek ever would have expected, but you don't get to say I'm making fools out of you two or that I'm being unreasonable when I shut you down because _you're_ not the ones who have to accept all of this, you don't have to live without your husband or your goddamn leg. I'm not going to magically get better the minute I talk to my shrink or get the prosthetic, Meredith, deal with it."

Meredith was quiet, her blue eyes steely as she glared at Lexie. It was a silent challenge, for Lexie to say something else because she was ready to fight back, even though Lexie knew just as well as Meredith that wasn't a fight she was really and truly looking to have. She rose from the bed slowly, tearing her eyes away from her sister as she started to make her exit, her retreat. Meredith stopped right as her hand hovered over the doorknob, head falling slightly as she spoke again. "You know you aren't supposed to lock your door, and next time I'm not picking the lock, I'm having Derek take the damn thing off its hinges."

"Go ahead and take it," Lexie mumbled, her hands readjusting so she had both sets of tags clenched around her fist. "Teach me a thing or two about what it means to lose something."

* * *

The black dot in the sky grew closer until it was right on top of them and Lexie found herself standing in the middle of what felt like a wind tunnel. Hunt was already yelling things at the top of his lungs in a vain, vain attempt to overpower the sound of the chopper, leaving Lexie no choice but to pretend she'd understood him and standing by him at the ready for virtually anything.

Virtually anything landed right in front of them, stirring up clouds of dust all around them. Lexie didn't hear the specifics, instead let her eyes do the talking for her as everything.

She'd knew the minute she set out that nothing was going to be even remotely close to the way things went back home at Mass Gen. She'd been severely mistaken in thinking that something this intense wouldn't land right in her lap right off the bat. This wasn't the _hospital_ , this wasn't sleepy and a charge every now and again, this had nothing on the one and a half casualties she'd seen in her medical career. She didn't mind it, either; she sought a challenge, she liked them.

"What do we have?" she could hear Hunt's voice over the whir of the blades ahead, just barely at that. She was fortunate she had somewhat mastered the skill of reading lips.

"IED randomly detonated about twenty feet away from their truck. No fatalities, but this one's close." Lexie's eyes told her a lot as Hunt pointed the few still-standing guys getting their makeshift stretcher off the chopper in the direction of their med tent where Avery's head was conveniently peeking out the flaps of. She watched as they walked past, saw the pants leg on the injured soldier's person torn apart thanks to the protruding femur bone, saw him trying not to succumb to his pain. They told her that this was where the real fun began.

Everything started to move in a blur, delicious and fast, the way Lexie liked things to be. There were a few other guys that followed behind with slightly less severe injuries, Lexie and Hunt both jogging back towards the tent to start making heads and tails of things the second they were sure they'd gotten everyone off the chopper. They'd never had anything like this come through their tent before, nothing this intense and nothing of this scale.

The tent was packed, as assumed, soldiers standing everywhere if they were still able to stand on both legs, the rest of them scattered on the few places they had to lie down as Kepner, Avery, and one of the other on-call medics made their rounds and started doing evaluations. Unspoken, but how it went; you landed on something good, it ended up yours, and Lexie could have shot Kepner straight to hell with one look the minute she realized what had happened, Kepner setting up shop with the snapped in half femur. She ground her teeth together, breathed in sharply, and tried to remember that she and Kepner played for the same team.

Even though it was very, _very_ hard to remember at a point like this.

She started making her own rounds, most of the men she spoke to mostly concerned with the welfare of anyone but themselves and not injured enough to take up bed space. Lexie had almost succumbed to the fact she would be back twiddling with her tags or worse, being Kepner's right hand when she saw one of the soldiers that had carried the stretcher through off in the corner, clutching his arm. Clutching his arm tightly. Like he was trying to stop something so it would go unnoticed.

"You're hurt," Lexie stated plainly as she took another step in his direction, not even needing to peel back his hand to see that he was injured judging by his poor job at concealing his now blood-stained sleeve. He shook his head the very minute he realized that she was talking, in fact, to him.

"I'm not hurt."

She didn't hear his reply, not really; she was too busy shoving him down on the table in the midst of her pursuit in finding a suture kit in the thinned out supply racks. If there was virtually one thing that she and Kepner agreed on, it was having a system in keeping things neat and orderly, a system that all of the other surgeons seemed to kindly disregard entirely. "Avery, where the hell are the suture kits?"

"The what?"

"Just...shh," Lexie interrupted her newly appointed patient as she kept surfing through the racks until she came across a rogue suture kit hiding near the back of everything on the shelf.

"I'm really not hurt that bad." Again, Lexie ignored his statements as she made her way back over to him, tearing open the suture kit and sitting it down on the tray she'd pulled a little closer within reach. She swatted his spare hand away, yanking his sleeve up to get a better look at his arm. One half second glance at the laceration, extending across nearly his entire forearm and still bleeding, told her that it was definitely as bad as it looked. However he or nature had done this to him, she didn't really care; she was truthfully still grateful he hadn't passed out from any kind of blood loss on her. Her eyes snapped up to his to give him a look, mostly a silent question as to why he hadn't said anything and was content on bleeding out quietly in the corner.

"I'm telling you, doc—"

"Yeah, yeah, you're not hurt, I heard you the first three times," she mimicked him, resting one hand on her hip and the other out gesturing at his arm. "If I don't get this stitched up, you'll get an infection. You...you get an infection, you either die, get your arm amputated, _or_ you die after we amputate your arm. Take your pick."

"You sure are a ray of sunshine," he groaned. Lexie shrugged.

"And I'm trying to fix you, I could use without the vexing behavior."

"I'm your superior, you realize," he pointed out, trying to sit back up. Lexie by all means was no match for him in size, physicality, or strength, but her adrenaline was enough to push him flat on his back even in his resistance.

"And you're hurt; since I'm the doctor here, I'm the superior, now lay _still_." She paused for a moment before adding, "Sir."

He was pissed, and she could see it there in his eyes as he stared at her, smirking, like he was trying to figure out how he was going to tear her to shreds later. "Name?"

"Grey. Lexie Grey." Her eyes departed from his, returning to examine the laceration on his arm and to figure out where to begin. Hunt and Kepner were off in the far corner of the tent trying to assess the more critically wounded that had come in; Lexie would forever damn the fact Kepner's specialty was trauma when she did her residency. She reached over to pull the suture kit a little closer, her one glance over in the opposite direction and sheer instinct telling her she was lucky to be treating him, that she wouldn't get her hands on anyone else from this wave seeing as how Kepner and Hunt seemed to have the big stuff handled all on their own.

"Aren't you going to ask me what _my_ name is, doc?" he piped back up as she turned back to face him, needle in hand, one of his eyebrows kinked in curiosity and his blue eyes sparkling as he watched her while she worked. She sighed. No doubt he was the most overbearing patient she'd had to deal with thus far, and she'd only been at it a few days. Something told her no one would come close to him in that competition, either.

"What's your name, Major?"

He grinned like the devil, and even with her eyes elsewhere she could see it from the corner of her view as he introduced himself almost gleefully, gleeful to the point of it being downright predatory. "Mark Sloan."

* * *

 **Some stories just write themselves I swear. How was that for a chapter? Things definitely got tense with Meredith and Lexie; I think it's important for context that Lexie's been home now for almost five months and even though we're only on chapter two, these tensions have been running for quite some time. Meredith/Lexie is one of my favorite dynamics and I'm so upset that they never did it _any_ justice on Grey's so have no fear, I'll be doing my best to remedy that. And of course, MARK SLOAN HAS ENTERED THE PICTURE, can't not talk about that. Next chapter you're definitely going to be seeing more of him, and I can guarantee a lot more Mark in your life again, especially this week, if you leave a review and lemme know what you think ;) xo**


	4. Chapter Three

**Hello once again beautiful people! How in the hell I've managed to successfully update not once but twice in a week is incredibly baffling, especially for me, so please don't get that used to it, but I really couldn't resist after all your kind reviews (and the giant wave of inspiration that hit me square in the face). I love seeing what you think, and I think you'll have quite a lot to say after this chapter, so remember that the box at the end of the page is your best friend as it is mine, and there's nothing I love more than us all being best friends. I own nothing, which is a damn tragedy within itself, and once again, all mistakes I make are my own. It's fanfiction, though. Not sure what you expected anyways. Alright, I'll shut up.**

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Lexie prided herself on many things, a steady hand being one of them. Her patience, on the other hand, was anything but. Major Mark Sloan hadn't been an ideal patient by any means while she fixed him up, cleaning the wound and sewing the laceration shut, even being so kind as to not do a hack-job on it like she _should_ have in order to jump in on Hunt's surgery, a ruptured spleen that had come out of nowhere, or to even team up with Kepner. But she hadn't. Instead, she sat there diligently finishing her job even despite his ridiculous commentary that grated down on her nerves more and more the longer they sat there.

She'd been entirely grateful when he was finished and she was able to dismiss herself from his company.

His whole unit had been swallowed whole by base, and she prayed that this wasn't going to be a new common thing even though the discomforting sinking feeling in her chest told her otherwise. From what she understood, the crudely-slapped together IED that had set off near their truck hadn't been made well enough to do the kind of damage it wanted to, but it certainly had taken plenty. The soldier that had come in with the broken femur had lost his leg entirely, Kepner was forced to amputate it in order to save his life, and he'd been discharged almost immediately after. She may have spent most of her days inside the med tent, doing medic work half the time and twiddling her thumbs waiting for something to fall in her lap the other half, but she knew it was taking its toll. It didn't take her being around any of them to tell her as much.

It meant Mark Sloan was out of sight, out of mind for a little while, anyways, so she wasn't going to dwell over it _that_ much.

After dinner one night, she was sitting outside of the med tent watching the sky and taking advantage of the quiet. Out in the distance, a group of soldiers as well as Avery and another one of their surgeons were playing a game of soccer, their laughs echoing out in the empty desert. Lexie's hands were wrapped around her knees, hugging them towards her chest as her eyes danced over each little star in the sky. Back in Boston it was a little harder to see all of the stars, and even with all of the smoke and dust stirred up from the sand, she could see them clearly. She'd always been fascinated by the stars as a little girl; they were a source of quiet comfort, getting lost in the elements in space that burned brighter than the sun and were long gone now. They reminded her of her childhood, they reminded her of what she could be. What she was _going_ to be. What she was already halfway on the verge of being.

"If it isn't Doctor Sunshine," the voice pierced her bubble of thought, frown immediately settling on her face as she glanced up. She knew exactly who it belonged to, and he was wearing a ridiculously overbearing smile on his face as he looked down at her.

"Major Sloan," she replied dryly, line of sight rectifying back to how it had been only a few moments earlier.

"What, I don't get a nickname?"

Lexie rolled her eyes at his teasing, pulling her legs a little closer to her chest. "I'm pretty sure my giving you a nickname is frowned upon."

"Correct, you are," he congratulated. Without warning, he sat down next to her, accidentally bumping her knees with his elbow as he made room for himself on the ground in order to get comfortable. Torn from her peace in watching the sky—or at least, as much peace as there could be with a soccer game transpiring a couple of feet in the distance—she turned her head to stare at him, bewildered.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm joining you, Sunshine." His answer was matter-of-fact, as if he were explaining to her how the sun rose in the morning and set in the evening. The immediate response that materialized in her mind was to ask him where, exactly, the sign over her head calling for company was and when the lights had turned on because she sure as hell couldn't recall, but she decided to let it dissipate. Judging by his semblance to the Cheshire cat, he really didn't care one way or another, and she wasn't looking to pick a fight.

She stared ahead, lips pressed together as she tried to turn her focus to the soccer game. It wasn't interesting by any means; they were all playing on a one-man team and it had quickly evolved from soccer to a game of keep-away. Earlier, she'd sworn she saw Avery pick up the ball and start running. However, it was better entertainment than having to acknowledge she'd now found herself plagued with the company of none other Mark Sloan, the last person she wanted to be around at the moment. "Haven't seen you around base," Sloan commented, his way of trying to elicit a conversation out of her.

"I spend most of my time in the med tent."

"Doing what? You haven't had anything to do since...the incident." His voice went about as stiff as the air around him, had Lexie reached out she could have felt it bristling. The numbness was still seeping through the after math; from what she'd overheard, it was a lot harder when you didn't get sent home in a body bag. Turning her head slightly, she could see him straighten up a little and square his shoulders back, as though he was physically trying to shake the awkwardness from his body.

"We have to practice," she pointed out, trying to steer the conversation from a plummet into painful silence. That was worse than him accompanying her via his own invitation to do so, in her book, and Lexie had always been the kind of girl who didn't mind talking emotions with other people. "Surgery's only muscle memory to an extent."

"Every time I come by to get this thing changed," he replied, lifting up his arm to display the giant cut that ran along the distance of his forearm. "You are never there, so the way I see it, that's not much of an excuse."

"And again, I'm a surgeon, not a medic." It wasn't entirely a lie; changing dressings and removing stitches was basic field-medic work, and by her doing it would have been an entire waste of time. Whether or not she mentioned to him that she'd ducked out every single time he'd come around looking for her wouldn't hurt him.

"So you patching me up was just something you did out of the kindness of your heart?" He rested a hand over his chest mockingly. "Dr. Grey, I'm touched."

Lexie rolled her eyes, but she kept quiet. Her answer was already armed on the edge of her tongue, but she knew the repercussions it would surely bring. The second she'd mention the only reason she'd patched him up was to save his arm from infection and ultimately amputation, the awkward silence would return with all its spikes, or worse, he'd lash out. As much as it aggravated her, she'd take the taunting that came along with his company, rather than an excruciating silence that allowed her her quiet.

"How come you aren't out there running around with your surgeon buddies?" he asked, gesturing out towards the group off in the distance that had now entirely abandoned the soccer ball and were running around chasing one another like a group of elementary-school children.

"Those are some of your guys out there, too, you know," Lexie told him. She didn't want to give him the real answer, which was that she didn't really have anything to do with the other surgeons on the base other than Hunt who was always much too busy for any sort of outside bonding, that she was much more content and having twenty times more fun sitting and observing the stars than trying to keep up somewhere she wasn't necessarily invited. "I could ask you the same thing."

One of his eyebrows kinked in question, mostly out of surprise she was even willing to go back and forth. "Are you?"

Lexie's line of sight was far off in the clearance, her mind raveling her back inside faster and faster as she started slipping from the conversation. "No, I'm not."

"And why is that?" he prompted teasingly.

"Because I already know the answer: for some reason, you just can't seem to resist me." He'd walked himself right into that one. She would have never put it out on display, but she was damn proud of it, too, even if he had made it easy for her.

Sloan scoffed, making it harder for Lexie to keep her grin suppressed. "Whatever you say, doc." She shook her head at his denial, trying not to laugh as she tore her eyes from him and went back to watching the sky.

Each little star burned, brighter than some and others fading well into the blackness of the sky, and Lexie couldn't help herself but to think of home, who she was before she'd slapped on the olive drab and khaki; when she'd lay in the backyard with Molly and make shapes from the clouds and identify the Big and Little Dippers over and over again since it was the only constellation either of them had bothered to memorize. She'd been just Lexie, with the photographic memory and one foot inside Harvard who smiled and rambled too much and apologized often and resented apples. She'd been one of those stars that did well with a black backdrop, stealing the eye's attention, and now she felt in the likes of those who had dimmed out, the ones who had known their place for so long that it resulted in them losing themselves and burned all the way out trying to rediscover. Drawing her knees in a little closer, she rested her chin down on her folded arms. "I'm not a soccer girl, anyways. I played softball all the way through college," she admitted to him, kick-starting him and the conversation up all over again.

The moment it came out of her mouth, she found herself wishing there were some way to retract all the words. The smile on Sloan's face returned, bright and brilliant and creases forming next to his eyes. His elation was burning through her side as she winced, a small laugh escaping her throat the more ridiculous the look on his face got. "What?" Lexie asked, tearing fully away from her other surroundings to give him a look, hair sweeping down across her shoulders.

"Oh nothing," he mused nonchalantly. "Just thinking about how next time we find ourselves like this, I'm so kicking your ass in a game of baseball."

* * *

"I lost someone overseas," are Lexie's first words to Dr. Wyatt.

Four sessions and she'd successfully made it through without talking, up until the last twenty minutes of session number five. Hell, she'd been proud of herself for keeping silent that long. By nature, she was one who would ramble just to fill empty air whether she had something to say of importance or not. Not talking in therapy was her way of resisting more of Meredith and Derek's attempts to cure her of her grief, not talking was a way of getting a second of silence where she could be in her mind with no one berating her for it, not talking in therapy was keeping the waterfall of bricks her memories and emotions had taken the form of at bay where she could essentially forget about them.

Her fight with Meredith a few days ago had started gnawing away at her, like she was supposed to regret it or something. She didn't by any means: the words had to come out one way or another, and her sister wasn't going to hear anything than brutal hostility since that was the language Meredith spoke. The nightmares had come swinging in full-force, much worse than they usually were, and the same face haunted them in ways she'd tried to entirely black out of her mind.

Dr. Wyatt's face was expressionless, of course, although Lexie knew somewhere behind the mask she was a thousand shades colored in surprise that Lexie had actually said something that wasn't a reminder time was up. "Were they a friend?"

"Everyone's a friend over there," Lexie answered after a moment of contemplation. "But yeah, I...I guess you could say that."

"Were they more than a friend?" She was the shrink, after all. Everything Lexie said was a puzzle that Dr. Wyatt seemed to have all the answers in solving. The silence was overwhelming to the point of _suffocating._ She knew the answer, Dr. Wyatt knew the answer too, but she wanted to hear her physically say it even at the risk of it killing her to squeeze it from her lungs. Lexie exhaled from her nose, bangs falling in her eyes as she cast her head downwards so she could focus more closely on the carpet and avoid eye contact altogether.

"Yes," she finally admitted, her voice small.

"Tell me about them," Dr. Wyatt gestured for her to continue, and Lexie felt her insides freeze. She hadn't talked about him in ages, mostly because it was an unspoken rule that no one brought him up, no one asked him about her, and no one ever acknowledged his existence verbally when she was within hearing range. Meredith and Derek had been strict enforcers of that, especially when she'd first gotten home, still reeling and any sign of him would set her off into hysterics. Out of sight, out of mind worked when she was in the company of others, not so much when she was on her own and fully trapped inside her head, but she could handle it when his face appeared in the dreams turned to nightmares, when it was out of her control entirely.

Her mouth suddenly dry, she gripped her hands tighter together in an attempt to get a tangible hold on something she could control. In this case, it was just how fiercely she could cut off the circulation in her palms. Dr. Wyatt had asked her to talk, and all the words blended together in a fit of nothing inside her mind. There was a reason she never talked about it, and that was because the slightest little thing would break the very fragile dam holding it all back. In the corners of her eyes, Lexie could feel the burning start, thorns pressing further and further down at the thought of him. His laugh. His smile. His eyes. His heart. The way he'd faded right there in her fingers.

"I loved him." The only thing that was willing to jump from the back of her throat did so in a way that she could feel all of her insides start to shift at the weight. Dr. Wyatt was scribbling fiercely in her notebook—finally, Lexie was giving her something to go on and god was she taking advantage of the few little things she could squeeze out—while Lexie stared at her hands, studied the shape of her fingers and the length of the nails. It was growing harder and harder for her to hold firm to the reality that her hands were clean and not covered with blood and dirt and ash. "I...I loved him. We were going to get married."

"He'd proposed?"

Lexie shook her head, blinking her eyes rapidly to hold the tears at bay for just a little while longer. "He'd um...we'd talked about it," she explained quietly, voice threatening to break in half under the weight of the sobs fighting their way out. "It was going to happen, we knew that, we just, kinda wanted to wait? At least until the tour was finished and he could retire and we were at home for good. Like real people do, anyways."

"Just because you have an unconventional relationship doesn't mean it makes you any less of a real person, Lexie," Dr. Wyatt pointed out, and Lexie had to bite back the laugh. She knew all about unconventional; her sister's definition of marriage was a framed Post-It note, the frame only coming about when the adhesive on the back started failing. "So the two of you were going to come home and get married."

"That was the plan," she muttered.

"And then he—"

"You don't have to say it," Lexie cut in, head snapping up to meet Dr. Wyatt in an icy glare and voice raising the second she realized where this was derailing. "I...I know what happened. Please, just...don't say it."

"Lexie," Dr. Wyatt coaxed. "Not hearing the words, not letting someone say them in front of you only buries you further down into denial. Even if it's not what you want to hear."

"I've heard it enough over the last five months," Lexie pointed out. "I've heard it enough to last me a lifetime."

Her eyes weren't glued to the clock, nor was her brain focused on keeping the time, so she was a little startled at the small, erratic knock on the door that couldn't have belonged to anyone but Meredith. Almost on cue, Lexie fell silent as her sister pushed the door open, her eyes falling back down into her lap. "Lex, you ready?" Meredith asked, just like usual, looking over at Dr. Wyatt for something, anything. The session was over, and Meredith's added intrusion was the swift hit to the shut-down button.

"Yeah, I'm ready." She released the breaks on her wheelchair and started off towards Meredith, as Dr. Wyatt closed the notebook and capped her pen. It was only now that Lexie noticed the color of the notebook, _her_ notebook most likely, a shade of plum purple.

"See you next week," Lexie heard Meredith say quietly to Dr. Wyatt. She wondered if her sister could tell that something was different with this session, that perhaps she'd done something other than stare at the walls.

The car ride was filled with a lack of conversation, as per usual, but this time it wasn't from Lexie trying to prove a point to Meredith that talking wouldn't solve all of her problems. This time, it was because Lexie had dipped her toe back in an ocean she'd swore never to go swimming in, at least not any time soon. She was sitting in the seat, thumb encircling the surface over her palm over and over because this time, she'd really gone and done it and now there was no taking it back. Cracks had already begun to snake their way up through the walls, and any time now they were going to come crashing back down. And all she wanted now, just like she had back then, was her older sister.

"I talked today," she whispered after a rampant surge of courage to talk to Meredith that wasn't in the name of picking a fight flooded right through her, and if Meredith had ever been a person who believed in using her car radio, she never would have heard Lexie.

"You did?" The way Meredith spoke, it was like she was discovering Lexie had indeed been the one to hang all the stars in the sky by her pinky. Lexie knew she'd been told roughly a million times, most of them coming from herself, not to get her hopes up on seeing significant bursts of progress especially in processes designated to help. Meredith was biting her tongue, trying to keep her joy from flooding over as she glanced over at Lexie. "What'd you talk about?"

Lexie didn't even realize she had been holding her breath until the words fell from her mouth in a rushing exhale. "Mark."

* * *

 **...I'm sorry. Please don't kill me, guys. Come on though, you had to know it was coming, like...you HAD TO, okay? I tried to drop as many hints as I could without really dropping hints, although now if you go back and reread the last few updates things certainly make a hell of a lot more sense. Either way, I couldn't keep dragging it out much farther because the suspense was killing me. Besides, even though he is no longer physically with us Mark has a lot of tie-in to everything in Lexie's present, and in case you can't tell, flashbacks are going to be a major part of the story anyways, so rest assured, you won't be that deprived of him! I love him too much to do that to myself. And to think, Elisa, you voted for this. Wink. Anyways, lemme know what you thought, remember I love you, and someone tell Chyler Leigh I love her. xo**


	5. Chapter Four

**...and we're back! I'm lowkey kinda surprised you all are willing to stick it out with me after I dropped that bombshell on you last chapter, but it means the world to me that you trust me even just a little bit and have a tiny bit faith here. Your reviews made me smile, they really did. Have no fear though, you will certainly get your Slexie/Mark fill from this story, and as Cileme has made me promise to her, I have plenty of stuff to come after this story (or during, who knows? Wink) that involves both of them alive and kicking as they ought to be, and yet Shonda really, really likes to see me suffer. I own nothing, an unfortunate truth, this is _fanfiction,_ and reviews keep the world turning. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four**

Meredith and Derek had never met Mark Sloan. He wasn't anything of a mystery to them; they'd seen him before plenty, whether it was a reference to him in one of Lexie's letters, or catching a physical glimpse of him lurking in the background during one of Lexie's biweekly Skype calls. It never went past that, however. He was merely the steadfast entity in Lexie's life, the same way that Lexie seemed to be in her sister's.

That was, up until Lexie got granted a few days over the holidays for leave, and she'd excitedly called Meredith with the news that she'd be visiting. What she'd neglected to tell her, in all the midst of her excitement, was the inconvenient and in Meredith's mind, behemoth detail that Mark Sloan had _also_ been granted leave and was coming along with her.

It didn't bother Lexie as much as it did Mark. He felt as though he was intruding, because Lexie had invited him all while being entirely conscious of her decision not to tell her sister ahead of time. "They're not gonna be happy about this, Grey," Mark had warned her somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean for approximately the seventeenth time that day. She wasn't paying him much attention, too captivated by watching the clouds lazily float underneath them. Lexie tore her sights away only to shoot him a look. He sighed. "But let me guess, you don't really give a shit."

A cheerful smile broke out on her face as she closed her eyes, nestling back further into her seat. "She's my sister, Mark," she explained. "She'll get over it. Besides, she was the one who got married while I was away, and on a Post-It note at that. We'll call this getting even."

"Lexie Grey, using her defenseless companion as grounds for getting equal in the battle of the passive-aggressive sisterhood? You wouldn't _use_ me, would you, Grey?" Lexie simply nudged Mark in the arm with her elbow.

"I'm serious," she whined, turning her back to the window for the first time the entire plane ride—she'd come close to physically fighting Mark for it; she'd been too tired to argue with him over the first flight but by the time they'd made their layover in Germany, she was awake enough to threaten him within an inch of his life if he robbed her of the window seat again—and facing him. All of the jokes and playfulness washed from her expression, eyes watching him carefully. "Look, all jokes and Post-It weddings aside, I wouldn't have asked you to come with me if I didn't want you there, if I didn't want you to meet my sister. We're...we're _together_ , Mark," Lexie whispered, as if saying it too loud where people could overhear would perhaps jinx it. "And whatever this happens to be, I want it to also be something that I can be in where my sister can see. She's the only family I have."

"You have a father and little sister living in Boston," Mark pointed out dryly.

"Fine, whatever, she's the only family I choose to acknowledge having. That's not the point, though." Lexie reached up onto the arm rest, placing her hand over top of his and letting her fingers fall in between the spaces of his. "My _point_ is, she matters to me, you matter to me, and I'm sure once I get to know Derek beyond the whole ferryboat and having breakfast for dinner every day of the week obsessions, he'll matter to me too. It's Christmas, Mark. I want to spend it with my family, I want to spend it with you."

He flipped his hand underneath hers, locking his fingers slowly with hers. "As long as you're sure," he muttered quietly. Lexie offered him a small smile before she went right back to gazing out the window.

Neither Meredith or Derek had been able to come pick them up from the airport, due to the fact they'd had to rearrange both of their schedules in order to accommodate for as much time with Lexie while she was at home as they could manage. They'd been left to their own devices, and as Meredith reminded them, a spare key under a terracotta frog in the flower bed for them. Mark and Lexie had very explicit and straight-forward plans when they got to Meredith's: go straight to sleep and catch up on the jet-lag so they'd be somewhat up for company later when Meredith and Derek got off.

And that was exactly what they'd done; they'd gotten into a cab, arrived at Meredith's house, and despite all of Lexie's protests that it was rude and unguest-like, left all of their luggage in the hallway before crashing together on the couch in the living room.

What Lexie hadn't anticipated was that maybe, just maybe, her sister would have at least tried to appear somewhat sisterly and get off of work early, that _maybe_ Meredith was going to outlive every expectation that Lexie had let float away after meeting Meredith back when she was eighteen by actually putting together a surprise for her.

That was exactly what happened though; Meredith got off work early, had even gone out of her way to stop by somewhere and pick up food, and come strolling in with her _welcome homes_ armed on her tongue only to trip over a pile of luggage. _Much_ more luggage than she knew her sister owned and was even allowed to have with her overseas.

She'd walked into the living room, relatively apprehensive now that she had virtually no idea what she was walking in on, only to see her little sister curled up under a blanket against some man. For a moment, Meredith stared, trying to figure out who the hell it was lying next to her, before finally giving up on all hopes of the guessing game. She reached into the floor where they'd shoved all of the throw pillows aside, grabbing one and throwing it right at Lexie's head.

Waking up with a startle, Lexie promptly fell right off the couch, dragging the blanket with her and thus scaring Mark awake. "Mer!" Lexie panted, hand resting over her chest as she tried to catch her breath. "Mer, what the hell?"

"Hello?" Meredith said, gesturing in Mark's direction wildly, eyes nearly bugging out of her head. "What is this?"

Mark, having recovered from a minor heart attack, laid back down with the throw pillow hugged tightly to his chest. "Told you, Lex," he reminded her in a sing-song voice, closing his eyes and checking out of the conversation entirely.

Lexie carded a hand through her hair, still sitting on the floor and adjusting the blanket over her knees to keep from having to look her sister in the eye. "I, um...this is Mark, Mer," she admitted sheepishly. Meredith's hands were on her hips, glaring at her sister. "He's, uh, _well_ , he's like my Christmas surprise for you guys. So...surprise?"

Had Meredith had another pillow within reach, she probably would have picked it up and thrown it at Lexie, too. "Next time you bring home your super secret army boyfriend, at least keep his luggage out of the walkway, I nearly broke my neck trying to bring you lunch," she said, exasperation heavy in her voice.

"I _told_ you it was rude!" Lexie hissed, turning around to glare at Mark, who was already half-asleep again.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled. His hand shot up in a half wave. "Hi, Meredith."

Meredith was already halfway in the kitchen by the time he'd acknowledged her. "Nice to meet you too, Mark," she called back.

Lexie could do nothing but sigh, slouching up against the edge of the couch and pulling the blanket up higher around her knees.

The problem, she very quickly discovered, had very little to do with Mark's actual presence, but rather what his presence required of Meredith. Apparently, Meredith had spent roughly two days clearing out the guest room that had become something of a hoarder's nightmare ever since she'd inhabited the house, using it as a little storage unit for all the things of her mother's that wouldn't cram into the attic or the trash can. Now that Mark was here, that meant even more cleaning for Meredith, because her solution to the problem was to simply shove everything onto one side of the room, since it was Lexie and she wouldn't take up the whole room anyways. Lexie had seen her harrumph all the way up the stairs, industrial trash bag thrown over her shoulder, grumbling something about forewarning a girl and secret army boyfriends the whole way.

She'd maybe gotten another hour of sleep at the most before she found herself being rudely awoken once again, Mark's hands getting a little too adventurous underneath the blanket. "Mark," she warned, turning her back to him and pulling the blanket up tighter around her neck. Behind her, Mark merely laughed, his chin resting on top of her head comfortably. "My sister's already pissed enough with us for pulling one over on her—"

"—which I told you would happen, I don't know why you were surprised by that—"

"Imagine how mad she'll _really_ be if she sees us fornicating on her couch." Mark's hands immediately stopped traveling, frozen somewhere near her thighs.

"I'm sorry," he said in disbelief. "Did you just say _fornicating_?"

"And if I did?"

He snorted. "When the hell were you born then, 1611?"

Lexie merely rolled her eyes, nestling farther back against Mark. Finally out of her post jet-lag haze, she was able to actually take in Meredith's house, a house she'd never been inside of. Meredith had gone to Dartmouth which was somewhat close to Boston, and even though her move to Seattle before starting her surgical internship had been prior to Lexie enlisting, Lexie had never been able to find the time (or the money) to come visit her sister. Lexie had only heard about the Seattle house a few times, heard how it was originally her mother's before her Alzheimer's grew to be more than Meredith could manage on her own, how it had become more or less a house of strays during her intern year and most of residency. Ever since she and Derek had gotten ' _married_ ' there had been significantly less strays around, and Lexie was almost positive Meredith had kicked them all out over Christmas because of her homecoming.

She found it hard to believe that a bunch of adults all inhabited the same space, judging by how empty the living room felt. Coffee table, couch, love seat, the coat rack in the doorway, dining room table and chairs; something about it all felt wrong, entirely off, and Lexie couldn't put her finger on it no matter how many times she let her eyes wander over the room.

"There's no Christmas tree," she finally commented, somewhat disheartened by that realization. Every Christmas, her family had their tree put up the first weekend of December, even earlier when Lexie was in college and had a fiber optic tree that sat on her desk.

"Does your sister normally put up a Christmas tree?" Mark asked quietly. Lexie thought about it, quickly deducting that she was like Mark and knew absolutely nothing about her sister's holiday habits.

Without warning, Lexie flung the blanket back and rolled off the couch, much to Mark's disappointment at the loss of a warm body next to him ("Ask your sister if she knows how to work a thermostat while you're at it!" he'd called after her) and made her way up the stairs in the same way she'd seen Meredith disappear earlier.

It took a moment of staring down the upstairs hallway and peering into empty rooms before she found Meredith, whom she almost didn't even see to begin with. Instead, all Lexie saw was a mountain of belongings, some of which were currently air borne, and that had given it away. She walked into the room cautiously, arms folded over her chest and a little afraid that Meredith would accidentally send something flying right at her if she wasn't careful.

"Meredith, you do celebrate Christmas, right?" Lexie asked hesitantly. Meredith's head appeared from the other side of the guest bed at the sound of her name, hairs falling out of the sloppy ponytail she'd given herself and her face flushed.

"Yeah, why?"

Lexie took a sweeping glance of the room, namely all of the stuff Meredith was either trying to stack sky-high or throw out before glaring at her sister. "Meredith, you haven't decorated the first thing. You don't even have a Christmas tree."

Meredith pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, huffing. "Lexie, I'm a doctor, it's a miracle that I even had time to clean off half this bed for you as it was. I can't just ask the Chief if I can have the day off to go cut down a Christmas tree in the middle of the woods and turn my house into something Clark Griswold would be jealous of." A deliciously wicked grin started spreading over Lexie's face, and Meredith groaned. "Okay, _no._ No, I am not traipsing out in the cold to a Christmas tree farm to pick out a Charlie Brown tree that we'll take down in...three days anyways. No." For emphasis, she jabbed her pointer finger in Lexie's direction forcefully, to ward off the exaggerated pout that Lexie had now adopted.

"You're more than welcome to go buy it yourself, I will gladly leave you my car keys," Meredith offered. "Just as long as you don't wreck it, I know you haven't done much driving lately." Lexie shot her sister another look, silent as Meredith went back to throwing things over her shoulder to make walking room on the opposite side of the bed. After a moment's pause, Lexie spoke up.

"If you come get a Christmas tree with us, I promise I'll make sure Mark doesn't say a word about the clutter."

"Deal," Meredith said almost instantaneously, dropping the box she was holding without second thought and letting it clatter to the floor as she stood up. She straightened out her legs in a dramatic manner, exhaling. "God, I thought you and Mark were going to have to physically remove my body later on tonight; I was in that floor for so long I wasn't sure my legs were going to work."

"You need to get out more," was Lexie's only comment.

After rummaging through all their bags that were still strewn in the hallway for things warmer than their plane attire, which were nothing more than glorified pajamas, and much more of Meredith's begrudging grumbling under her breath as she left a note for Derek in the case he beat them home, the three of them all piled into Meredith's car. Mark was sitting in the middle of the backseat, Meredith their driver and Lexie calling shotgun solely because she'd already Googled the closest Christmas tree farm and had the directions pulled up on her phone.

The ride was supposed to be a short one, and by the sheer design of a damning universe, it had grown in duration by the incredibly convenient midday traffic Lexie's GPS had led them right into the heart of. It couldn't have gotten much more uncomfortable; Meredith was a firm believer in no radio as it was, Mark had absolutely nothing to throw in between the already heightening awkward tension between Meredith and Lexie, and Lexie couldn't have picked a decent conversation starter to save her own life. Instead, Meredith drummed her fingers along the edges of the steering wheel, eyes locked up ahead on stand-still traffic that hadn't changed any in the last five minutes, Lexie tucking one of her legs up underneath her as she shifted underneath the weight of their atmosphere.

"It's probably a wreck," Mark finally said, the silence growing to be too much for him. Meredith didn't even bother to acknowledge him, and Lexie's shot up to the rearview mirror to give him a look. His only response was a shrug.

"So, how did you two meet?" Meredith asked after another painful beat of silence, nonchalant and her line of sight still straight in front of her. Mark and Lexie's eyes met in the rearview mirror, Lexie's in some shade of horror and Mark's entirely blank.

"We...well, on base," Lexie started, voice unnaturally high. She hadn't been expecting for her sister to start at the one place Lexie would have been very content overlooking entirely.

"And Derek and I met at the hospital," was Meredith's quickfire response, her voice dry. "I wanna know _how;_ you know, like when you two first got together, that type of thing." She finally tore her sights away from the road, hints of a smile curling along her lips as she looked over at her sister. "Come on, Lex, you gotta give the details, I told you all about Derek. It's my right as your sister to know. It can't be that bad."

From the backseat, Mark began to cough, something that sounded like a strangled ' _wanna bet_ ', Lexie avoiding looking over at him now that Meredith was much more focused on the two of them than the road. She stared at the both of them expectantly, waiting on one of them to start talking.

"The light's green!" Lexie suddenly yelled, quite joyously mostly from the fact she'd evaded a very awkward conversation with her older sister by the skin of her teeth. When she dared to look back at Mark, he looked as though he'd nearly evaded getting hit by a car. _Crisis averted,_ she thought. _For now._

The Christmas tree farm was already in quite the pitiful state when they arrived; unlike them, most everyone else had come earlier in the month and gotten all of the decent looking trees that looked as though they'd be able to fight their own up until Christmas. There were a couple of other holiday slackers among them, straggling along to make do with what was left in the last three days before Christmas was upon them. Pickings were slim, Meredith looked as though she'd rather be sitting in the car, Lexie was simply elated about just being in the presence of holiday-related things, and Mark found it a miracle that Lexie had yet to tackle someone over a tree she'd set her sights on already.

"Alright," Lexie said cheerfully, hands on her hips and surveying her surroundings from the mouth of the gates leading into the farm. "Where do we begin?"

Behind her, Mark and Meredith were in a very similar boat: both only doing this for Lexie's sake. They exchanged puzzled glances with one another, before glancing back over at where Lexie stood with her back to them. "Lex, there's like...five trees still standing," Mark pointed out. "There's not much ' _beginning_ ' to be done."

She whipped around, giving him a pointed glare. "I'm not the one who doesn't believe in being surrounded by Christmas spirit." Meredith lifted her hands in mock arrest.

Lexie sighed. "Well, we gotta start somewhere," she mumbled mostly to herself, before striking off down the main path.

Meredith and Mark quietly followed along behind her, letting Lexie run off ahead of them to fulfill her heart's desire since the two of them knew they would only stand in the way of the Lexie Grey Christmas Tree Selection Method. "So," Meredith said quietly, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket as they ambled along, her attempt to make conversation. "You're the infamous Mark Sloan." Mark gave a single nod in reply, his line of sight cast down towards his feet. "She really does talk about you...a lot. Lately you've been getting at least a solid page in her letters home."

The beginnings of a smirk began to make their appearance across Mark's face. "She's...she's Lexie," he finally mused, head tilting back up and watching as Lexie darted off down a row that still had a few trees standing to make her examinations. "She's hard to resist."

"Is that how the two of you got together?" Meredith asked innocently, dragging that box out again now that she could corner Mark without her sister's interference. As if it was instinct, Mark started to clear his throat after a strangled sort of hybrid cough and laugh escaped his throat.

"Let's, um, let's just say your sister is outrageously forward. That's _all_ you need to know." Judging by the look on his face, Meredith deducted that whatever it was, it was something she more than likely didn't want to hear about her little, baby sister doing. She nodded quickly.

"Got it."

They fell back into silence for a moment, shuffling along and occasionally catching sight of Lexie, woman on a mission skirting through all of the rows with her unspoken strategies and sheer determination on her face. "Do you love her?"

Mark looked over at Meredith, the initial shock already begin to fade from his face but still resembling a deer in headlights. "I mean," Meredith reasoned, her hand motioning out in the direction they'd last seen Lexie come from. "You sacrificed your leave over the holidays to meet your girlfriend's family, despite the fact they didn't even know you were coming. You must love her."

"My family's no count," he replied. "So I didn't really sacrifice anything. She's..." Mark paused, rubbing at his chin sheepishly. "She's kinda the only family I have. It's not the easiest thing to explain—"

"You don't have to," Meredith rushed to say, holding her hand up to stop him. "I'm not my sister, I don't do the whole feelings and emotions circus."

"That's a relief. Your sister loves to talk about feelings and emotions, I don't know if I could have handled both of you urging me to talk about how I feel." The smile on Meredith's face at the thought of her sister constantly urging Mark to discuss his thoughts with her grew a little. She nestled her hands farther into her pockets, shrugging.

"It's just, you know," she explained, tilting her head to the side. "It seems like she really loves you. That she's happy. It's nice knowing she's got someone to look after her over there."

Mark scoffed. "Don't ever let her hear you say that, she'll try to claw your eyes out. She can handle herself just fine, thank you very much," he mimicked her, one of his hands stationing over his hips. Meredith smiled.

"Well, just for the record, if you hurt her, I'm somewhat obliged to kick your ass and make sure she never finds out where I buried your body."

"I'm surprisingly okay with that." Mark had heard the stories of Thatcher, the family that Lexie had been all too eager to forget the minute she got the chance, the family that had gone downhill after her mother died, the family that certainly hadn't proven they deserved her in the slightest and yet she'd still stuck around trying to get an ounce of love from them. Meredith hadn't been the ideal sister, nor were they close in the slightest, but from what he'd heard, she was a world of improvement standing next to them.

"Found it!" They heard Lexie's voice reverberate in the tranquility of the nearly-barren farm, the two of them not realizing how much distance she'd put between them in their languid strolling. It took a bit of searching on both Meredith and Mark's behalf to figure out where she'd run off to, until Meredith saw her standing in front of a tree rather possessively, as if she was prepared to ward off any wandering eye that settled onto _her_ Christmas tree. "Isn't she beautiful?" Lexie asked proudly, beaming as she made a spectacle of displaying her tree to the both of them as they drew closer.

It certainly wasn't the greatest tree by any means, but they couldn't deny the fact that whatever methods Lexie had tucked up in her head had paid off. It wasn't anything like the scrawny, measly tree Meredith had been expecting on her to settle with, since she knew Lexie had a bleeding heart towards the overlooked and neglected things in life and actually somewhat resembled a Christmas tree, and most of all, Lexie was so damn pleased with herself it was radiating off her. Mark and Meredith spoke simultaneously.

"Glorious."

"We couldn't do any better."

Lexie's eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them, bewilderment quickly coloring onto her face. "Well? _Someone's_ gonna have to cut it down, I can't just will it to fall over." Meredith was quick to follow in her sister's footsteps, glancing up at Mark.

Mark sighed.

 **. . .**

Derek didn't get home until they were halfway done decorating the tree, which had proven to be quite the task since Meredith had no idea where in the hell her past roommates had buried the boxes of ornaments from Christmases past. Meredith was ridiculously relieved he'd arrived; decorating was much more up his alley than it was hers.

"Derek!" she called out almost a little too gleefully when he appeared in the doorway, staring at the pile of luggage that they'd shoved even further back down the hallway in order for Mark to fit the tree through the front door.

"There's luggage in our hallway," he pointed out as Meredith jumped down off the chair she was on, rushing over to his side.

"Yes, there is," she replied, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "It would be our guests'."

" _Guests'_?"

Lexie, who was currently tangled up in tinsel as she tried to strategically wrap it around the tree for the third time, swiveled around in the chair she was standing on and smiling once her eyes landed on her brother-in-law. "Derek, hi," she said, dropping the edge of the tinsel she was currently holding and stepping down from the chair.

She made her way across the room to say hello, give him a hug, but that wasn't where Derek's attention was at. Instead of focusing on his sister-in-law being home and in front of them and smelling exactly like a pine tree, he was more interested in the man that had magically appeared from behind the Christmas tree, dusting his hands off on his jeans and walking up behind Lexie. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion, trying to steal a quick look over at his wife before Lexie flung her arms around him in a hug.

He didn't have the time. "Hey, Lexie," Derek uttered out as he gently hugged Lexie back, his eyes still on the stranger standing behind Lexie at a ridiculously close distance. "Good to have you home."

"I know," she said cheekily as she pulled away from him. "Otherwise you wouldn't have a Christmas tree." She slid out of the way, letting whoever her shadow was step up in her place in front of Derek.

"It's nice to meet you, man," Mark said, extending his hand out towards Derek. Lexie had already fallen in place beside him, one of her hands wrapping around the edge of his arm and looking up at him like he'd hung the sun in the sky earlier that morning.

"Who's this?" Derek asked, taking Mark's hand and shaking it, still smiling in all the midst of his confusion as he finally glanced over at Meredith for some sort of explanation. Meredith had both of her hands on her hips, grinning.

"This would be Mark. Mark _Sloan_. Otherwise known as our Christmas surprise," she said, quoting Lexie from earlier. From behind Mark, Meredith could see the edges of Lexie's ears start to turn red from embarrassment.

Realization flooded Derek's features, eyebrows lifting quizzically. "Really?" Following in suit with her ears, Lexie's entire face had turned the same color as Meredith's sweater, intently focused on the hardwoods in the hallway as she tried to further bury her face into Mark's shoulder. "Well, in that case, it's nice to meet you too. We've heard _all_ kinds of things about you."

"Derek," Lexie growled from behind Mark, an attempt at trying to sound somewhat threatening and instead, eliciting laughs from everyone around her.

"What, Little Grey?" Derek asked her innocently, watching as she stomped away to return to perfecting her tinsel on the tree, having given up on the rest of them. His eyes met Mark's. "She's fun to mess with."

The smile on Mark's face was enough to have been illegal. "Oh, I know."

Derek made his departure only to get changed out of his dress clothes, leaving Mark, Meredith, and Lexie to resume decorating the tree. It had turned into much more of an enjoyable experience now that they'd gone and pushed Lexie's buttons, in turn shutting her up and letting them do their jobs in peace. Derek had come downstairs to relieve Meredith of her ornament duties, only in exchange for her efforts to go start dinner.

"That's a terrible idea," Lexie commented. "We came for Christmas, not food poisoning." Meredith merely flipped her the bird as she strolled off into the kitchen. "All she's going to do is order more pizza!"

"I like pizza," Mark stated.

"Don't encourage it," Lexie hissed, ponytail whipping in her face as she turned to shoot him a dirty look.

Derek chuckled, grabbing an ornament from the box. "I like this one, Little Grey."

"Of course you do, you're both frat boys. It's a damn match made in heaven," she grumbled under her breath.

They finished up, mostly in peace; Lexie was oddly silent as she worked, Mark and Derek keeping up most of the conversation. She wasn't surprised in the least that the two of them were getting along. Mark and Derek, somewhere down the line, had been made in the same vein and all it did was attribute to the fact they'd have plenty to bond over. Every now and again, Lexie would peer her head into the kitchen, only to see Meredith leaning up against the kitchen counter and arguing with whoever happened to be on the other line, which was most likely the source of their dinner.

"Time to put the star up," Derek announced after they'd finished up decorating (and it had gotten Lexie's firm approval at least twice). Lexie smiled, reaching her hand out for it eagerly; she'd started this thing, and she had been adamant that she was going to be the one to finish it, too. He handed it over to her carefully, the twisted hunk of metal significantly larger than just one of her hands and presenting her with quite the dilemma. Lexie Grey, however, rarely asked for help, and she went about trying to get it to the top of the tree without knocking the tree over in the process or falling out of the chair. Standing on her tiptoes and trying to keep her balance by at least _reaching_ for the wall, Mark and Derek watched for at least five minutes as she struggled, unable to get the star on top of the tree without breaking something. Finally, Mark shook his head.

"You are going to kill yourself," he sighed dramatically, walking over behind her and gesturing towards himself. "Come on, get on my shoulders."

Lexie blinked twice. "I'm not going to be responsible for murder, Sloan."

It took everything in Derek to stifle his laugh, both Mark and Lexie glancing over at him with their own varied degree of a pointed glare. "Ha, ha, you're not gonna kill me, Grey," Mark mimicked her, rolling his eyes as he snatched the star from her hands and bent down towards her level. "Just get on my shoulders."

As she went about throwing one of her legs over Mark's shoulders, she briefly looked over at Derek. "I suggest having 911 already dialed," she informed him, Mark scowling underneath her.

"You better be nice to me, I'm your legs now and can conveniently fail you whenever I want."

It took a minute for Mark and Lexie to figure it out which was surefire entertainment for Derek; both of Lexie's hands were death-locked around Mark's arms as she tried to situate herself on top of his shoulders without falling or accidentally kicking him in the eye. They finally managed it after Mark nearly dropped Lexie off backwards because she apparently wasn't ready for him to stand up fully. Lexie let go of his arms when he slowly started to stand up straight, her hands out on either side of her as she established her own balance.

He handed her the star, walking up as close to the tree as he could with both of his hands now tightly wrapped around Lexie's ankles. "Move a little more to the left," Derek called out from behind them, Mark carefully taking a small step to his left while Lexie tried to get the star to sit and stay on the top of the tree.

"Who the hell bought this thing?" she mumbled to herself. "It's heavy enough to kill a person."

"Well, please don't drop it," Mark reminded her from underneath.

"Don't tempt me."

"You two are adorable," Derek chuckled. Lexie finally got the star pushed down far enough onto the tree's branches, removing her hands slowly as she watched the star and waited for it to fall. Nothing happened, the grin breaking out over Lexie's face enough to split her lips in two.

"Ha! Yes," she sang victoriously, clapping excitedly. "Babe, step back, I want to see all of my hard work."

Underneath her, Mark rolled his eyes as he began to move away from the tree. "I'm sorry, who cut down the tree? Who tied the tree to the top of Meredith's Camry? _Who_ carried this thing up all those stairs to the front door?"

"Shh," Lexie swatted one of her hands down in his face to silence him. "I'm trying to admire Meredith's Christmas tree." She sat there atop Mark's shoulders, her hands resting on top of his head as she admired her handiwork, completely and utterly pleased with herself.

She didn't even have to mention to him that she was ready to get down, all Mark had to do was walk backwards towards the couch and bend down, letting Lexie fall down in a heap of limbs and one hell of a satisfied smile drawn over her lips.

"Nice job, babe," Lexie told him, motioning for him to bend down before she grabbed his face and pulled it down towards hers to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah." Despite his blasé response, he had a very similar smile already slapped on his face when he pulled away from her. Derek broke his quiet observation of the two of them and the sickening amount of hearts that were circling over the both of their heads.

"I take back what I said earlier," he said. "The two of you are so adorable it's actually nauseating. Remind me to make sure I've done what I can to eliminate any outside noises before I go to bed tonight."

Lexie rolled her eyes and threw the closest thing with in her reach—another one of Meredith's throw pillows— right at Derek. Mark couldn't do anything but laugh.

At that moment, Meredith came stomping into the living room, flinging herself down onto the couch with her arms folded over her chest. "We are _never_ ordering from that Chinese place down the street, ever again, not even if they're the last food establishment left on the planet," she told Derek stiffly. His only response was a mock salute. She sighed, doing a quick sweeping glance of the now fully erected and glowing Christmas tree in the corner of her living room. "The tree looks very Christmas-y."

"Mer, that's the point of it," Lexie retorted.

"Whatever."

It was the first time all four of them had been together all in the same room, the first time that they were all able to celebrate Christmas with one another and not through a novel of Lexie's letters or a grainy Skype call, but that, of course, would be the last time Meredith and Derek ever saw Mark Sloan.

* * *

 **So this chapter came out of absolutely nowhere; it's a long one, no doubt, but I think it's a nice glimpse back to the past after the fact you all know what happens to Mark in the present, and who doesn't love quality Christmas shenanigans even though it's currently the middle of February? We'll jump back into the present next chapter where we get all sorts of fun angst with Merder and Lexie, and I can definitely tease that there will be a few new faces to look forward to when we come back! The way I jump around over the timeline can be a little crazy but I promise it'll all make sense soon enough. Remember to lemme know what you thought, I'm really interested in hearing what you have to say about this chapter/their relationship especially, and I promise I'll try to get another update out sometime this week. You all deserve it. Also, regular reminder that Chyler Leigh is an angel. xo**


	6. Chapter Five

**...well, after a small little break (one that I only took to finish a M/L video that had been sitting in my drafts for much too long, check out my Tumblr to go see it) I am back in the fic swing of things and freshly inspired! I'd appreciate if the time could stop getting away from me but at the same time, ya girl kinda needs for this semester to be over so I can dedicate myself to endless updates. I love reading your reviews so very much, you have no idea how inexplicably happy they make me, so please keep them coming! It can only get crazier from here, and I can guarantee some of the stuff to come might come close to sending even me on to be with my babies. As always, I own nothing, this is about as fake as fanfictions can be, blah blah blah... I know no one really reads this anyways, so let's get to it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Derek wasn't by any means good at making things meant to be consumed; he was a surgeon, not a chef. His signature was breakfast, mostly because it was hard for even the incompetent to mess up a bowl of cereal, and breakfast for him was quick. Time prepared was far less than time consumed, which was exactly how he liked it. Even then, his outcomes were never even close to toeing the line of gourmet, more along the ranks of comfort. Derek did comfort food well. Which was why Lexie wasn't surprised in the slightest that when she emerged from her bedroom, Derek was standing over the stove making hot cocoa.

Lexie sat in the doorway for a moment, watching quietly as he stirred languidly, whistling to himself. One of his hands was tucked into the pocket of his jeans, the other loosely holding onto the spoon as he watched the steam rise off the surface, eyes lifting to meet Lexie after some time had passed. "I figured you wouldn't want tea," was his only statement to her before she rolled over the threshold and wheeled herself over to the edge of the kitchen table.

She'd come home and cried, which she'd certainly expected from herself after spending any length of time discussing Mark. She'd come home and cried, which she'd certainly expected from herself after spending any length of time discussing Mark. Thinking about him was hard enough, but there was a reason he'd been sworn off as a topic of conversation. Mark was hard; for Lexie, for people like Meredith and Derek who'd met him a grand total of one time and the rest of their knowledge surmounting to a pile of letters, and it always resulted in Lexie proving the impossible at retreating even farther inside herself and specifically on Meredith's behalf, wanting to bury Thatcher Grey thirty feet in the ground for driving Lexie off to the Middle East to begin with.

All cried out for now, Lexie was content with messing with a pair of dog tags that had she hadn't been able to let out of her fingers since getting home and waiting on Derek to finish up. Her guess was, Meredith had breathed the words _'Mark Sloan_ ' in his direction at some point between now and then, and he'd started rummaging through his tool belt of comfort foods he could manage to make without setting off the smoke alarm or leaving the house. Meredith had let it go the second Lexie mentioned it in the car, of course; the Mark topic was a cacophony of feelings Meredith never did like poking with a stick, and for the first time in her life, she'd actually turned on the radio to tide them over until they'd made it home. She cared, but talking about it was never her forte.

"Marshmallows?" Derek asked her, glancing over his shoulder with both arms buried deep somewhere in the pantry as he tried to located the item of discussion. "They're here somewhere...I thought..."

"That's fine," Lexie muttered quietly, winding her fingers around the tag chains absentmindedly.

After a moment of feeling around, Derek finally retracted his arms from the top shelf with an unopened bag of jumbo marshmallows, smile on his face as he turned back around to face Lexie. "Knew we had some in there," he said. Lexie tried her best to push her lips into a smile, not sure of how well-executed it turned out being.

She went back and forth between staring at the table, her hands, and back at Derek as he finished up, pouring his hot cocoa into two separate mugs over the sink in the likely case he missed the mug and it went straight for running down his hands. Bag of marshmallows balanced in between his teeth, he brought over the mugs and sat one down in front of Lexie, the other right in front of the place designated to the chair adjacent where she'd settled.

Derek sat down, removing the bag from his teeth and ripping it open before holding it out in offering to her. Lexie blinked twice, eyes fixed on the opening in the bag for a moment or so. Finally, she reached in, fingers wrapping around just one to put in her drink. Once she made no move to go back in, Derek tipped the bag over and started shaking them out into his cup.

Absentmindedly, Lexie watched as her own marshmallow landed in the cocoa, spinning around briefly before bumping up against the edge of the mug and stopping entirely as Derek set the bag down on the table, opening in her direction. She'd always baffled Meredith with her own affinity for marshmallows, preferred a larger ratio of marshmallows to cocoa half the time and would eat them plain when she was particularly stressed. Derek knew this, and he was using it to his advantage.

Deep down, Lexie knew he was going to come out triumphant with his tactics of getting her to talk in the end. She didn't know how to say no to sugar.

"Therapy went okay today?" Derek asked, picking his mug up to take a sip.

Lexie's eyes darted upwards, solely to shoot him a look. "I think you already know the answer to that question," she pointed out dryly.

"You're right, I do. Meredith doesn't like to bring it up around you though. She doesn't like seeing you upset."

"If feelings are involved, Meredith is checked out," Lexie muttered, her comment cracking a smile on Derek's face as he pressed his lips against the rim of his mug. "Tears freak her out. Especially my tears, and _e_ _specially_ my tears over...you know."

Most of Derek's smile faded, the edges of his lips still trying to hold up. "Over Mark?" he finished for her, watching as the emotions from her face were wiped clean and she went blank. Her eyes cast down towards her lap, where a knot of dog tags rested over her knee. "I don't like seeing you upset either, Lexie."

"I know," she mumbled in reply, the standard for when conversation started trailing back down this particular road.

"But I'm not Meredith. I don't mind feelings." Lexie bit down on her lower lip, eyes still hovering in her lap to avoid Derek's direct eye contact with her as he burned holes in her forehead. "I don't mind sitting here and talking about things with you. Even if they're about Mark."

Lexie sighed, one of her fingers running down the length of the ball chain on Mark's tags. "I'm just tired." The whisper poked the pregnant silence that had fallen over them as Derek watched her patiently, sipping on his hot cocoa and waiting for her to talk or make a move to retreat back to her room. Her voice was heavy, starting to crack at the seams already. She thought she'd been all cried out, but apparently she was proving herself wrong. "I'm just _tired_ , Derek."

"Tired of what?" She tilted her head back, eyes moving over the surface of the ceiling.

"I don't know," Lexie deducted. "Everything. Nothing, I guess; I don't think I've done much over the last four and a half months to constitute as me doing anything. Missing him. Thinking about him, closing my eyes and just reliving that...horrible moment over and over again." Her voice snapped in the middle at the pressure of a sob threatening to escape. "I keep seeing him everywhere I go and I know that's probably a sign of insanity and that you guys will need to admit me to the psych ward sooner rather than later—"

"Lexie, no one is admitting you to the psych ward," Derek reminded her. She finally glanced back down to eye level, to where he was, and raised both of her eyebrows expectantly. "You're not crazy. You're still grieving."

Her hand jotted out past the mug of hot cocoa that had still gone untouched, probing right inside the hole in the bag of marshmallows and coming away with a fistful. "Yeah, well, the lines are beginning to blur. Crazy, grieving quasi-widow might as well be my damn middle name."

"Your middle name is _Caroline_."

Lexie frowned, shoving an entire marshmallow into her mouth in one go. "You know, if this is your idea of helping me, pointing out _really_ painfully obvious facts every time I say something, it's not working at all."

Derek merely smiled. "Good thing I didn't become a psychiatrist, then." Setting his mug back down onto the table, he took his newly-freed hand and reached out, his hand covering one of her own. "Lexie, it's hard enough getting you to even tell us what today's date is. Can you blame me if I'm pushing your buttons just to keep you talking?"

Another jumbo marshmallow made its way past her lips. "I guess not," she mumbled.

"I was the one who told Meredith you needed time, you needed to do this on your own and no amount of pushing she did was going to get you where you needed to be. Color me curious, I guess, but you started talking about Mark without anyone or anything prompting it and I'm trying to figure out _what_ prompted it." He paused for a moment, before speaking again. "Not that it's a bad thing, talking about him. I think you need to."

"Like I said," Lexie replied, rolling her last marshmallow in between her thumb and index finger. "I'm _tired_. Literally, I...I don't sleep, ever since me and Mer went at it the nightmares have only gotten worse; it's just a loop, Derek. A loop of him dying over and over and over again and I can never stop it. Or, he's still here and I wake up thinking that maybe I got it all wrong and I see these goddamn tags on the dresser beside me and I spend the next three hours crying my eyes out into the pillows so I don't wake up Zola." She shrugged. "I just had to say something to somebody before I...before I _exploded_."

The shaky, forced exhale that left her throat felt as though it was going to suffocate her as it exited. "I'm just tired." Her eyes finally met Derek's, the tears starting to burn in the corners of her eyes. This was why she was scared of talking about him to start; she was terrified the minute she did, she'd never stop and it'd suck all the oxygen out of her body. She laughed as a sob broke through her, a tear slipping free from the wells of her eyes.

Derek offered her a smile as he pushed the bag of marshmallows a little closer to her.

 **. . .**

The PT-day routine was back to its usual with Meredith accompanying her instead of Derek, a feat Lexie was grateful for. She'd woken up to hear Meredith and Derek having quite the conversation in the kitchen as they juggled getting Zola breakfast and ready for her day at daycare, Lexie keeping out of sight to eavesdrop.

"I don't know what Wyatt said to her, but I think she's making progress," Meredith whispered, not quiet enough to keep Lexie from hearing the excitement in her tone. " _And_ she mentioned it to you? That's a good sign. Has to be, right?"

"Meredith, you know what Wyatt told you. You can't expect her to put one foot forward and then just sprint headlong at the finish line. That's not how it works," he reminded her, bordering the edges of a warning. Meredith huffed, probably rolling her eyes had Lexie gotten close enough to get a look.

"Yeah, yeah, she doesn't go by the Meredith Grey schedule, I get that; you've reminded me that about a zillion times since we got her home. But Derek, this is good! She's talking in therapy now, she's not just staring at the clock and waiting until I come pick her up. She's opening up to us. Progress is progress, we should be happy about that." Lexie bit down on her lip. Of course her sister was excited about this, and a little too much at that.

Derek's sigh wasn't kept concealed by any means. "Meredith..." he started. "Just because she's making progress doesn't mean she's getting better."

"That's what progress equates to. That's what this progress train is rolling towards, Derek. Her getting better," Meredith explained.

"No, Meredith, I don't think you get it. She might be willing to mention his name now or talk about him, but I don't think this means she's healing or whatever fancy term Wyatt wants to attach to it. She's _just_ now starting to vent. She's been holding in all that grief for what, five months now? It's going to be an avalanche, and then we'll have to sort through all of it."

Meredith was growing more and more agitated by the second, judging by the sharp tone her voice had quickly adopted. "Okay, I thought we agreed we were on the same page, keeping the faith alive in Lexie making headway in her recovery?"

"We are, Meredith! Need I remind you of the last conversation the two of you had, though?" Derek retorted, his volume rising. "She explicitly told you that you were smothering her with your need for her to live on your terms of recovery, and that everything she told you went in one ear and out the other. You don't listen to her whether her body language says it or she spells it out for you herself."

"Yes, and _you_ were the one who triggered that whole debacle because you wouldn't listen to her when she asked you to wait in the damn hallway!" Even waiting behind the wall, Lexie could feel the tension start to seep through the walls and press down on her shoulders.

"You," Derek dismissed her, already checking out of the conversation as far as Lexie could tell. "Are being unreasonable."

"She _has_ to get better. At some point or another, she's going to have to suck it up and start trying to move past this whether she wants to or not."

Derek groaned. "Meredith, it doesn't _work like that_ —"

"Mer?" Lexie asked, making her grand entrance finally solely so she didn't have to hear the argument escalate any further. She'd never liked being the topic of their bickering matches, not back when she and Meredith were on bad terms and certainly not now. Meredith and Derek's heads both snapped in her direction, Meredith looking a little alarmed at Lexie's sudden presence in the doorway and Derek's line of sight cast on the floor for a moment before turning his attention to Zola. Lexie held up the hair tie she'd pulled off her wrist moments ago, shrugging. "I was wondering if you could braid my hair for me. It's kind of hard since I can't really stand to do it."

Lexie had only ever been able to braid her hair down the back when she was standing up; call it a quirk or the way she'd learned to do it, but the photographic memory had burned the one way she'd managed to master the single French braid, and that had been when she was standing up in front of a mirror and she'd always held fast to that particular routine. Meredith simply nodded, head tilting in the direction of the living room.

Meredith wasn't by any means good at doing hair. Lexie had always thought it to be a miracle that Zola left the house with somewhat decent hair, but she figured most of that attributed to the fact that Zola was a baby and she couldn't complain about her mother's workings even if she wanted to. Lexie wheeled herself up near the edge of the couch where Meredith had taken up refuge, on both knees and hand extended for Lexie's hair tie. Once settled, Lexie handed it over and sat back, letting her sister do all the work. Things were still uncomfortable after hers and Derek's conversation turned sour, even though Meredith wasn't the wiser on knowing Lexie had overheard.

"Excited for physical therapy today?" Meredith asked, her fingers weaved in between strands of Lexie's hair and pulling tight to keep the braid somewhat in tact.

"I don't think I could ever be excited about going to PT," Lexie stated. "It's not a party, it's learning how to walk again. Doesn't sound like a whole lot of fun to me."

Behind her, Meredith fell silent again until she'd finished her handiwork. She then stiffly walked off to go brush her teeth and get ready to leave for PT. Lexie's best guess was that she'd inadvertently backed up all of Derek's claims and that it had done nothing but piss her sister off even more.

 _Joyful_ , Lexie thought begrudgingly.

Fortunately, Meredith's terrifyingly uncharacteristic traits from yesterday's car ride hadn't transferred over into today, Meredith slamming the volume button down the minute noise starting emitting from her stereo. Lexie was thankful for the silence, thankful for the nestling back into routine. It was comfortable and reassuring for her, things going the way they usually did. Change had frightened her enough before her life seemingly got shot to hell, and all it did now was send her running.

Callie was waiting for them when they arrived, her usual smile on her face as the doors opened and Lexie rolled herself over the threshold as Meredith hovered a few steps behind her. "Dr. Grey, nice to see you again," she greeted.

"Dr. Torres," Lexie replied, offering a half smile even as Callie sighed, rolling her eyes at the use of her surname.

Immediately, Lexie's eyes locked right onto the one thing that was off about the room today: a blonde woman sitting down on the bed Lexie usually occupied during her sessions, a blonde woman who seemed even more delighted with the general course of life than Callie usually did. Callie's line of sight quickly followed Lexie's. "Oh! God, I almost forgot; Arizona—"

The blonde, Arizona, had already pulled herself off the bed with her hand extended out towards Lexie. "Dr. Arizona Robbins," she introduced, shaking Lexie's hand fiercely the minute Lexie hesitantly took it. "It's nice to meet you. Or, maybe not, physical therapy isn't always the most fun place to meet a person. I didn't mean to intrude, Calliope's just been working out some of the kinks with my own prosthetic since it's been bothering me the last few days. Usually does that when it rains."

At the word ' _prosthetic_ ', Lexie did a quick scan of the woman in front of her only to land upon the small expanse of a prosthetic leg where her scrubs ended. "Plane crash," Arizona explained, small smile on her face. "Not the most memorable moment of my life."

Lexie snorted. "Believe me, I understand that perfectly."

Callie cleared her throat, even though she didn't seem too keen on breaking up the conversation. "Not that this isn't fun, seeing two of my favorite patients bond, but we've got to get to work with Dr. Grey. She's even pickier than you when it comes to prosthesis and I am _praying_ she will settle on one today." At this, she glanced over at Lexie with a look colored on her face, to which Lexie could only press her lips together and shrug.

The smile had never left Arizona's face as she retreated towards the door. "It was nice to meet you, Dr. Grey, maybe I'll see you around." Meredith was still leaning up against the door and holding it open, Arizona stopping in the middle of the doorway to turn around and face Callie. "And by the way, Calliope, flattery gets you nowhere."

Her departure also signaled Meredith's, the door finally closing and leaving Callie and Lexie alone to get started. As Callie helped Lexie transition onto the bed, Lexie couldn't help but to grin. "So, Arizona?" she asked, a suggestive hint to her voice.

Callie stopped, her eyes stern as they met Lexie's. "I've never seen so much personality come out of you," she mentioned, avoiding Lexie's comment entirely. "Usually you're all...dark. And broody, and very quiet. I honestly don't think I've ever heard this much of your voice."

"What can I say? She's infectious."

"Do you need me to stretch out your muscles any before we get started?" Callie asked, still evading what Lexie was itching to dig out of her. Callie was by nature a pretty cheerful person, the knowledge of her being incredibly good at what she did keeping her temperament afloat, and yet this Arizona person seemed to have dragged even more sunshine in the already open room. Something was up, it simply had to be.

"I'm okay," Lexie said. "And don't think I'm forgetting about this Arizona thing, you _will_ tell me about her. We're in here for awhile, after all."

As Callie walked off to retrieve the first of today's batch of prosthetic legs, she muttered, "You know, I think I liked you better all dark and twisty."

She came back a few moments later with the prosthetic in hand. "I'm trying not to show any displays of hope for this one, but Grey, you have to start giving me something," Callie started, her tone of voice serious. "There's only so many variations of prosthetic limbs in existence." Lexie sighed. She didn't aim to be a complicated patient by any means; it typically rooted from her disdain at existing, period, and nothing that Callie or the limbs had any control over. There was hardly a desire to care about whether or not she liked a prosthesis, she came here to get frustrated and work through most of the physical stuff, but they'd reached the point in their time together where they had to start dealing with _how_ she was going to walk again, and it certainly wasn't going to happen by regeneration and sprouting a replica of her missing leg.

They couldn't sit around and have Callie massage her leg all day, even if she did enjoy it and its ability to send her right into a peaceful slumber.

Callie went about helping Lexie with the prosthetic, fitting the glove over the remaining part of her leg before strapping the rest of the prosthetic leg on. Lexie glanced down at it, swallowing. It was always weird, looking down and seeing something there that wasn't empty space. She'd grown used to the lack of a limb there, and now that there was something in its place, something foreign at that, Lexie had a bit of a struggle processing and accepting that.

"You ready to stand?" Callie asked, stirring her from her thoughts. This was typically where all the others failed; Lexie either didn't like the fit or something just felt entirely off altogether, or she was in absolutely no mood to give a fuck about how or what it was and wasn't doing for her. Lexie nodded, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly as she gripped onto Callie's shoulders.

Lexie had a death grip on Callie's, both of her arms holding Lexie as they pulled her up slowly and allowed Lexie to get a feel for putting her weight on not just one leg but her own and the prosthetic. She could feel herself wobbling and her body making its threat to give way on her, grinding her teeth down as she tried to keep herself steady. "You good?" Lexie nodded, trying to focus on maintaining her balance rather than using her words to form a response.

"This is...this is good," Lexie said quietly after a few moments of adjusting, still white-knuckled holding onto Callie but beginning to get accustomed to the feel of standing. Standing was another concept that had grown foreign to her; she hadn't done it in what felt like forever that it nearly felt alien _not_ to be sitting down. Each time she'd gotten to the point of being willing to stand (which had gotten up to a total of three times including the current endeavor) she'd undergone the same sensation of feeling off-kilter trying to find her balance once again. Once something like balance was no longer was put into practice, Lexie had come to learn, it felt stranger and stranger each time it got dragged out of the closet and put to use.

"Please don't be saying that just to appease me, Grey. You know I don't take the bullshit and this isn't something you can just rush into in order to hear me talk more about Arizona."

"This isn't bullshit," Lexie snapped almost instantly, trying to regain some of her composure as quickly as it had recoiled away from her. "Seriously...this one's okay. _Okay_." Her clarification was sharp, but still, it evoked an elated reaction from her physical therapist, one she hadn't seen before.

"I think we're making progress, Grey," Callie noted excitedly, the smile on her face stretching from ear to ear.

That certainly seemed to be everyone's favorite word as of late, she couldn't help but to notice.

* * *

 **Well that's it! Spring break is here on Friday which means you will definitely be seeing more updates for this bad boy, so you won't have to wait much longer for some more of Mark back when he was alive and Slexie goodness that you all deserve. It's definitely a task to make sure things keep progressing properly in both timelines I write but I really do enjoy working through the present and Lexie's recovery (both physically and emotionally) as well as how the family deals with it. Meredith and her stubbornness, I swear. And ARIZONA IS HERE AND I'M EXCITED, she has such a fun role in this story! As always, reviews are highly and greatly appreciated and I surely think we can arrange another update later in the week if you lemme know what you think, wink. I love hearing your thoughts, predictions and just general emotions. I can tease next chapter's going to involve figuring out _exactly_ how Mark and Lex got together, what do you think that's gonna entail? Your regularly scheduled reminder that Chyler deserves the world. xo **


	7. Chapter Six

**Hello hello my lovelies! On to the next chapter we go; I'm excited for this one because we're back to when Mark's still with us and all sorts of insanity is bound to ensue as long as he's around. It's gonna be a long one, too, not gonna lie; it rounds out at over 8k. Your reviews always make me smile, I truly appreciate them more than you'll ever know; hearing your thoughts and seeing you guys get as invested as I probably am (this story owns me) are always the highlight of my day. I own nothing, this is a fanfiction and therefore you shouldn't expect too much from me—seriously,** **I know absolutely nothing medical-wise, so really...be gentle** — **and reviews keep the world spinning. Here we go.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

Things had been ticking by fairly slowly during the day for Lexie.

It had mostly been skills labs—a rough version of them, anyways, it was hard to execute a skills lab when you were in a tent instead of a lab—practicing and keeping their minds (and hands) fresh. Hunt wanted to keep them on their toes; Kepner and Avery were in the same boat as Lexie when it came to getting disinterested pretty quickly. There were only so many things that they could practice without having an actual trauma running in, and doing mundane things like typical medic work was never enjoyable. Lexie had gone into surgery for a reason, and it was because she equated a standard doctor with scut duty.

She ate dinner with Avery and Kepner, who after almost a month had grown _not_ to aggravate her as much. She'd been quick to peg Avery for another pretty boy, and after putting the pieces together and realizing that he wasn't just an Avery, he was an _Avery,_ she'd tacked on a couple of other labels to him as well. As for Kepner, the two of them had evidently been cut from similar cloths if not the same one entirely, and it explained a lot in terms of her disdain for the redhead. It took her all of one conversation with Hunt to realize the two of them were actually married (they never wore their rings, and that had been the main deterrent in her never seeing that plot twist coming from left field) and they'd lost their first child a few months back. This was their escape from the hell their life had become back home.

Lexie was able to comprehend escaping _very_ well; it made them a little bit easier to empathize with and in turn, tolerate them more than she certainly had.

"Hunt's not on assignment tonight," Avery mentioned casually somewhere near the end of their meal. "Which means we finally get the night off."

Kepner's head tossed back as she let her fork hit the table with a thud, emitting a satisfied groan. "This will be the first night I'll get to tuck in before 2300 since I don't even know when. I never thought I'd see the day come where I was more excited for sleep than I was working trauma."

"Well now you've really gone and done it," Avery muttered. "Some giant ass trauma is going to come rolling through and they're gonna call for us, and it's all because you just _had_ to go and jinx it." Kepner's face twisted up, nudging him in the arm with her elbow. "You got any grand plans tonight, Grey?"

Lexie gestured across the way at April. "Taking a few notes out of her book and going the hell to _sleep_ while I can. You know Hunt will come knocking extra early tomorrow morning since we got the night to ourselves."

They had a love-hate relationship with Major Hunt; Hunt was good at what he did, a natural-born leader and they'd never once seen him flinch under the pressure. He was a level-headed, damn good surgeon, but he never once failed to make sure the rest of them knew who had higher rank and who was in charge. Hunt was good for advice or anything that required him to be something other than their boss for about five minutes out of the day, and the rest of the time, he was drilling them into the ground like they were still interns.

Avery's hands collided with the table, pulling himself up off the bench. "Well ladies, enjoy your beauty sleep," he said, grabbing for his empty plate. "There's a soccer game calling my name." With one last touch of Kepner's shoulder as he walked past, he was gone. Kepner, of course, was quick to retire after him, which left Lexie sitting alone at her section of the table in the canteen, hands idly messing with her fork as she twirled it around in between her fingers.

Life hadn't supposed to end up like this, of course, but she was starting to have trouble remembering what life had been like before this. Before she had to check her boots for scorpions every morning even if the possibility of them being there was low, before her surgeries were in a sectioned-off part of a tent instead of the traditional OR, before she was able to think clearly without the rest of her world clouding her mind. Lexie was a far cry from who she'd been back home in Boston, having gotten familiarized with everything that had been a far cry from her norm. Hair braided, face tanned from the unforgiving sun, and a little bit more steel under her exterior than there'd been previously. A change, sure, but one she'd needed.

"Why're you sitting all alone, Sunshine?"

The owner of that voice, unfortunately, had also become one of the many things that she'd familiarized herself with over the weeks. Major Mark Sloan had somehow, despite his having an entirely different job that hardly ensured the two of them crossing paths frequently, defied all logic and had been making steady appearances in her days. He'd mostly stuck to coming up to her at night when she sat outside of the med tent, knowing she'd be stationed there and staring up at the stars like always and used that as his time to either strike a conversation out of her or squeeze his way under her skin. Typically, it was the latter. Warding off his company had grown futile about a week into his doing, Lexie realizing he was impossible to get rid of unless he was willing to go.

And of course, he wasn't.

"Major Sloan," she greeted, lifting her eyes to meet his. Sure enough, that signature smirk of his was stapled over his lips and he looked all too thrilled to have run into her. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He slung one of his legs over the bench, situating himself down in front of her and propping his elbows up on the surface of the table. His blue eyes were twinkling as he looked at her, something she'd learned they'd do whenever either the light caught them or something was preparing to exit his mouth that probably shouldn't in the first place. "Like I said, you were lonely. Who am I to deny you of some quality company?"

"I was sitting with Avery and Kepner all of about five seconds ago," Lexie pointed out.

"My point exactly." She wouldn't go so far as to label him quality company; he was decent at best. He kept her on her toes, thought it was amusing that she had a photographic memory and used it to entertain himself by having her spout pointless facts, and she could see the beginnings of something underneath the veneer he kept up like a steel wall around him the more and more he kept orbiting through her atmosphere.

Nonetheless, he still cocked an eyebrow at her, doing a once over before his eyes found their way back to where hers were. "Got any riveting plans? I hear Hunt's finally on base tonight."

Lexie shook her head, her fork still moving through the spaces in between her fingers as she twirled it around. "Unless you consider putting my pajamas on and trying to Skype my half-sister before I go to bed, a task I know will more than likely fail at, a riveting plan. Otherwise, not really." Her mouth began to curl into a faint smile.

"Wrong answer," Sloan hummed in a sing-song tone of voice. "You and I are going to kick ass at Uno."

Almost instantly, Lexie's eyebrows furrowed together as he stood up, a hand extended in her direction meant to grab her and pull her along. "Uno?" she repeated. "Who do I look like wanting to go play a game of cards on my night off?"

"You look like someone who's in need of a little fun. And some social interaction other than Avery and Kepner; they're okay, don't get me wrong, but I'm sure they're not the most riveting bunch of people. Doctors are usually pretty dreary."

"I take total offense to that," Lexie protested, swatting his hand away. " _I'm_ a ray of sunshine."

Sloan merely smiled at her. "Of course you are, it's why I bother wasting my time on you to begin with. Now come on; what else do you have to do tonight?" he asked. When she didn't make any sort of comeback, Sloan nodded. "That's what I thought. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me, Grey, it's a card game."

"Fine," Lexie grumbled after a moment of vain contemplation, seeing as how the look on his face said she might have come to the decision on her own but she would have been roped into it one way or another regardless, ignoring his still outstretched hand as she started to stand up. "You'd better hope you're one hell of a player."

"And if I'm not?" The look that had come over his face as they started to make their way out of the canteen should have been illegal. "Besides, I've already called dibs on you if we partner up, Sunshine."

It took everything in her not to give him the satisfaction, throwing her head back and letting out an irritated groan.

Night had already fallen over the desert, settling a velvet-black blanket over the sky and most of the heat that came with the territory when the sun was still around; the cool breezes were only going to grow colder, but they felt nice as they tickled the stray hairs along Lexie's hairline. Sloan walked closely alongside her, his arm occasionally bumping against her shoulder. He didn't try his usual, coaxing a reaction out of her, but instead kept trying to prompt her to keep talking. It didn't take any sort of genius to figure out that Lexie was a talker; she'd go on and on forever given the right topic. She did her best to keep her tongue at bay, especially around him, but fighting what was encoded in her was difficult.

They approached another tent, Lexie rambling on and the smile on Sloan's face continuing to grow the more she talked. A few soldiers were sitting outside, their attention from their own conversation drifting away as Lexie's voice moved elsewhere. They seemed to perk up at the sight of Mark Sloan with a woman in tow, their interest piqued. "Sloan, who's your friend?"

Lexie's eyes wandered over to the owner of the voice, a grin draped over his lips as he stared at her. It was uncomfortable for whatever reason and she felt herself freeze up. Sloan, however, wasn't putting up with it.

"Dr. Grey, and she's with me, McCraw." His voice was stiff when he replied, Lexie unfamiliar with whatever fierce and authority demeanor he'd almost immediately snapped into. She felt him hover closer to her, the possessiveness not as aggravating as she would have normally found it. These weren't her people, not her crowd, and being an outsider heightened the way they sized her up. She was as good as prey to them. "Lose the look." With that, he put an hand over the small of her back, leading her inside the tent. She got the feeling he was shooting one hell of a death glare as he followed behind.

"Oh yeah," Lexie muttered under her breath, leaning close in towards him so only he could hear her. "Me and my friends are dreary; you and yours are the lights of the world." He grunted, the two of them walking through the tent to where they'd set up the card game, somewhere near the very back corner. They were currently in the tail end of a game of spades, each player tense as they moved through the bids with their jaws clenched, eyes darting back and forth between their opponents and their hands. Lexie could feel the stiffness of the competition, something she thrived off of, and she was damn disappointed she wasn't in on the action.

"You couldn't have come and gotten me for spades? At least it's exciting."

Sloan glanced over at her, and whoever he'd transformed into moments earlier had dissipated back into his usual easygoing disposition she'd grown quick to associate him with. The half-smile on his face was lopsided. "Noted."

"Okay," one of the soldiers announced as the game tied up, sweeping the deck of cards back up into his hands and tearing Lexie's focus away from Sloan. "I know we said Uno next, but my brain is shot. I say Kent next, I need someone else to pull my weight."

Another rolled his eyes. "Kent? You wouldn't know how to be subtle if subtle kicked your ass into next Tuesday."

"Sloan, welcome back." They were finally onto acknowledging the two of them, for the most part everyone erupting into some form of a smile at the sight of Sloan. Lexie had no idea what to do with herself, hands clasping together behind her back. The woman who had pointed them out raised an eyebrow, looking specifically at Lexie. "Didn't know you went recruiting."

"What can I say, Altman? You guys aren't much fun. Besides, I need a decent partner if I want to whip your asses in Kent of all things."

"Well, someone make room for the lady." Two of the male soldiers on the other side of the table slid apart, creating a space for Lexie. "If we're doing Kent, she and Sloan can't sit next to each other."

Lexie maneuvered her way around the already cramped space to where they'd made a spot for her, already feeling much more at ease with this particular bunch than the guys they'd encountered outside. She glanced at their name tapes as she sat down; O'Malley and Bennett, the both of them offering her warm smiles and handshakes. Meeting anyone other than Avery, Kepner, Hunt, and the rest of the crew in the med tent had been a myth for her, and she'd always been a bit of a social butterfly. When she looked back across the table, Sloan was grinning at her.

O'Malley shuffled through the cards, bridging them as he started dealing them out. "I think instead of refreshing the rules, I'm going to refresh you all on what you're not allowed to do. No under the table signals allowed, Sloan. No table talk, Sloan. You call Kent too many times, you will eventually lose, and it is no one's fault but your own, _Sloan._ You clear, Sloan?" In reply, Sloan's face twisted up.

"Gee, O'Leprechaun, if I didn't know any better I'd assume you had no trust in me."

They called time for a minute, everyone scattering off in their different directions to discuss whatever signal they wanted to use whenever they'd gotten their four of a kind. Lexie and Sloan stayed at the table, him propping up his elbow and resting his chin on his balled up fist as he stared straight ahead at her. "Alright, sweetheart, you got any cue ideas?" he asked. "I've got a few."

"Somehow I get the feeling all of your cue ideas are ridiculously inappropriate, so they're all out of the question," Lexie informed him, her eyes narrowing. "I always hold my cards with my right hand, if I switch over to my left, I've got all four."

He blinked a few times, frowning. "Well damn, you don't make it any fun. At least in this game, you're allowed to send mixed signals to throw everyone off. I can still have my fun."

"You are incorrigible."

"Thanks, Sunshine."

Slowly but surely, everyone began to return back to the table with each set of partners grinning as though they were suppressing some sort of national secret each. "Everyone ready?" Altman asked once they'd all gotten back to their seats, reaching out for the remaining deck of cards.

"To kick your asses? Hell yeah I am," Sloan replied, glancing across the table and deliberately winking at Lexie. She rolled her eyes to deflect the gesture, despite the fact her cheeks were betraying her and starting to flush.

"Thanks for telling all of us what your signal is," Bennett laughed.

"Who said that was our signal? Honestly, Sam, you wish you were as psychically linked with someone like me and Grey are."

Altman was their assigned dealer, laying out each new set of cards on the table in front of them for each round. Lexie glanced down at her hand; luck had stricken early and granting her with two eights in the initial draw, watching closely as each card got overturned and as her opponents started doing their own once-overs on their hands and one another.

Sloan's favorite aspect of the game seemed to be the faux signals. He sure as hell had a plethora of them; they varied between him tugging at his ear to something so vulgar it was enough to send her hiding under the table with a face on fire. Most of them were ridiculously sexual in nature, the reasoning behind it simple: to get under her skin. She was an equal player though, itching to get one up on frustrating him the way he was doing to her (whether she was going to show signs of it or not) and while he was good at bluffing, she was starting to see the faints lines of cracks in his masquerade. Beside her, she could feel O'Malley starting to twitch. He so desperately wanted to call it on Sloan that it was starting to form beads of sweat on his forehead, all the while battling with the knowledge that Sloan did this every time. He didn't know up from down, and while it was almost cruel, Lexie still found it amusing.

"Stop _fucking_ Kent!" Bennett finally yelled after they'd cleared halfway through the deck, an accusatory finger pointing across the table at Altman. She merely grinned in response, turning her hand around to reveal only two fives and a medley of other cards. Her partner did the same, and the same result was produced. He slumped back in his seat, the defeat rendering him silent.

"Way to go there, Sammy-boy," Sloan teased as Altman began to deal out a new hand.

"Shut the hell up."

One more glance shot Lexie's way, his eyes leaded with a sort of look that shot heat straight down her spine, and she knew that the card game wasn't where he was getting his real fun at. It was _messing with her_.

She'd had the inkling about two weeks into his antics, but she didn't want to be one to jump the gun. It had gotten her bad places before, and she was glad to write it off as just him being himself. He seemed like the type to be flirty in nature; she'd been friends with men like him before and they'd been just as bad, if not worse, but it had never meant anything. They'd never been after her. Sloan, however, was starting to be a different story. If not after her was spelled out in the licking of lips and coy smiles paired with a wink, she'd been poorly mistaken all those years of college. He was something else, and whatever it happened to be, it was starting to wear her down.

Maybe it was the fact it was a game, and Lexie liked proving she was worthy competition, that she could keep up, or _maybe_ it was the fact that a few more looks laced with sin were going to entirely undo her here in front of everyone and she'd be damned if that happened. Either way, she was running in step with him, growing bolder and bolder with every single move above the table in the Kent game.

 _To hell with_ Kent.

"Sloan, why the fuck did you kick me?" Altman asked after one of Sloan's attempts at wriling Lexie up went awry, missing her by a long shot.

"You aren't allowed under the table signals, show me your damn hand!" O'Malley fired off. Sloan offered it up to him gladly, an innocent look coloring his face. O'Malley then glanced over at Lexie's hand, only seeing the same two eights from before, sighing impatiently. "Better watch it, Sloan."

He nodded vigorously. "Of course, Your Highness." O'Malley rolled his eyes from irritation, waving his hand for Altman to deal out another new hand.

The game tired on, Lexie grateful that she was across the table from her partner. Otherwise, she had the feeling very, very bad things would be transpiring, and her face was already red enough as it was. He was good at games, no doubt, and even though she prided herself on being good enough to keep at his pace, she was beginning to start falling behind.

Bennett and his partner eventually spelled out KENT first, after a few more mishaps on his behalf and conveniently failing to catch Lexie switching her cards over to her left hand, signaling the end of the game. Altman passed the deck back over towards Sloan, who they apparently belonged to, announcing her retirement for the evening. She was thankful for this, not sure of how much more of him she could take at such a distance. Her mind had shut down, stopped bothering to tell her what might have been wise or responsible or hell, even enough to signal that maybe this was just a bad idea, plain and simple. Other parts of her were orchestrating now, and she was a slave to wherever they guided.

"You wanna walk back with me?" he asked her quietly as they all got up to leave, handing her the deck of cards like she needed an excuse to follow along behind him. Her lack of an answer was answer enough.

They'd made it to his trailer after a quiet walk; she was occupied and borderline fascinated with the way the deck bridged in her hands, her method of avoiding a gaze that was starting to burn holes in her side. Unlike last time, they'd fallen into step a lot closer in proximity, his arm doing more than just bumping into her shoulder. This time, it felt like someone was jamming her fingers into an electrical socket whenever he brushed past. Silence followed them inside his trailer, the door echoing behind them as it shut and solidifying Lexie's decision on what she was going to do about this. Walking away had long since dissipated as an option, and her heart hammering in her chest as the adrenaline started pumping was a quiet second guessing, to maybe suggest she shouldn't have written it off entirely as quickly as she had.

Well, it was either going to swing in her favor or the rejection was going to be brutal.

"I think we should play another card game," she declared, her hands ruffling through the deck of cards as she spun around. "Just you and me this time."

"Are you propositioning me, Grey?" Sloan chuckled.

She tilted her head to the side, coy smile tugging on her lips. "I might be. Poker." Lexie let the deck fall from her hands, spreading them out across the table before taking a seat. "With a little twist."

"Grey..." His voice was a warning, as if he was scared of what she had up her sleeve and where she was taking this. Instead, her wicked grin only grew. "You aren't serious."

"Dead."

Lexie watched him carefully, as he tried to keep his eyes under control and from lurching out of his head. She had to admit, it hadn't even been remotely on her mind, but he'd been right earlier; this was her one night off, and she deserved to spend it doing something fun. It wasn't her fault that he'd worked his way underneath her skin far enough that she'd been practically driven into doing this.

"What, you saying you don't want me to see you naked?" she asked, cocking her head. He scoffed in disgust as he finally followed her in sitting down, and yet his eyes were glittering with a dangerous avidity.

"Who says you're gonna win?"

That was all the invitation she needed to start the game, dealing out the cards at a purposefully slow pace. Her eyes never left his, because this was more than just a simple matter of competition in a card game. They were sizing each other up, Lexie hopped up on whatever he'd been playing back there in the group and a rare stroke of courage. She was not _forward._ It wasn't her, and yet here she was plotting and scheming and let whatever was hanging heavy in the air over her sway her decision making.

They each had their hands ready after some perfection, and Lexie wasted no time in throwing down. "Full house," she declared triumphantly.

Mark smirked, shaking his head as he laid his hand out in front of her in a deliberately showy manner. "All fours," he announced. "And you know what that means." He nodded. "Shirt."

Lexie, however had a different idea, and he couldn't have told her otherwise even if he'd tried. Her hands moved underneath her shirt, fiddling with something before they came back out with her bra in tow. She couldn't hold back the laugh building in her throat when she saw the look on his face, as though someone had sucked all the oxygen clear from his lungs. Letting it fall from her fingertips, it landed on the floor as she gestured towards him. "Your turn to deal."

He was slow and methodical as he did so, his smirk returning after he'd gotten four cards out of the deck. Already, Lexie could feel herself starting to squirm underneath the building pressure. Her body was thinking much faster than her brain was able to register, the discomfort starting to become an itch she needed desperately to scratch and a wonderful tool to drive him crazy in the process.

"Two pairs," he said, laying his cards out for her.

She winced. "Damn...three of a kind." His face fell, only eliciting a dark chuckle from her as she waved one of her fingers around. "Off with your shirt."

Unlike her, he was more than willing to pony up with that request, yanking his shirt off his head in one fluid motion. It had been basic knowledge, knowing there had to be at least _something_ underneath. Lexie hadn't been expecting what was waiting on her though, his tags draping down through his chest and making him only that much more appealing. Her tongue darted out over her lower lip almost upon instinct, and her close study of him highlighted the slight flush in his cheeks afterwards.

They moved onto the next round, Lexie having to keep her line of sight at a safe distance on his neck to prevent any sort of distractions. This time, she lost, and his mouth seemed to go dry as the floor was open for him to make his request of what would go next. His voice was low and scratchy when he spoke, warmth exploding in her abdomen as he did. "Shirt," he growled. Her eyes widened slightly, but she was more than willing to follow his lead, even going so far as to enunciate it with a show by standing up from her chair.

Right as Lexie's hands brushed over the seam of her shirt, it was as though someone had lit a fire underneath Mark's proverbial feet. "Grey," he blurted out. "We..."

"What?" she asked innocently, tugging her shirt off over her head and letting it fall to the floor as well. He was now physically struggling to look away from her, like it was torturing him either way he chose to go. "We what?"

"This is...Sunshine," he exhaled, a hand planted on the back of his neck as he started looking for any kind of way out of this. The way he swallowed said his throat had gone bone dry, struggling to keep his rapidly dwindling composure within his control. His head started to tilt towards the floor, averting his eyes when he spoke. "It's not a good idea."

"Yeah, and I was told running off to the Middle East was a bad idea too, but here I am." She motioned towards herself, and then over at him. "And here we are. You don't strike me like the type to run back with your tail between your legs, Sloan."

"You aren't hearing me. It's not a good idea. _I_ am not a good idea."

Lexie took a step closer to him, raising an eyebrow. It was a challenge, it was a question, it was an _invitation_. "Know what I think is a good idea?" He didn't reply, at war with himself and trying to keep his eyes on her forehead, since he couldn't look her in the eye and he certainly couldn't look anywhere past that without spiraling. "You. And me."

It took him a moment to register with her being so close, so exposed in front of him, to find the words in the back of his throat. She was _seducing_ him, and goddammit, it was working. "Lex."

The way he said her name was like a prayer as he pulled her down onto his lap in one fluid movement. Her legs straddled over him, hands latching on at the column of his throat to keep him close to her. Space was the last thing she wanted; she wanted touch, she wanted friction, she wanted him. Mark didn't waste much more time dragging his hands up the shape of her body and highlighting every single curve as he did, putting her face in between both of his hands and bringing her towards him.

Their lips met, and it felt like sheer fire.

 **. . .**

For the next few days, it was hard for Lexie to look Mark straight in the eye. He of course, was hellbent on dangling this over her head, and showed up every single day to their med tent to get underneath her skin with just his presence alone. She didn't know how many solids she owed Kepner, using her as a human shield whenever he came around to ward him off. It was _amusing_ to him, meanwhile, she was utterly mortified. And somewhat maddened by him and that infuriating smile of his. She'd never been that forward before in her life, and for good reason.

Usually, being forward got her nowhere. Or it landed her in a situation similar to the Mark one, and she saw how well she was doing with that.

Lexie wasn't the type to carry a candle for anyone. She'd had boyfriends in the past, one night stands to work out her frustrations or scratch an itch, and she was desperately trying to shove the incident with Mark down into the latter category. Mark Sloan was nothing more than an itch that had blue eyes begging for her to reach out and scratch, colored in temptation and yeah, it sure did feel good, but now it was gone. Or at least, that was what she was in the process of selling to herself. Even if the seed had been planted, she needed to cut it off from the sun and water. She didn't have time, room, or the will to spend on thinking of him.

And of course, the minute that things in her mind couldn't get any more confusing, driving her to the very brink of insanity, the world seemed to implode all around her.

It was a Wednesday and she was minding her own business in the med tent, biding her time by practicing stitches on a starting-to-rot banana someone had accidentally left in the tent. Things had been relatively stagnant, Kepner the only one seeing any action as she'd had a minor surgery that morning. The quiet should have been a telltale sign that something big was lurking on the horizon, the eye of a storm that was bound to kick them in the teeth at any given second.

"We've got incoming!" She could hear the yell from off in the distance, her ears perking up at the sound. Those were words she had learned to welcome, whether or not what they brought along was necessarily so.

Whatever _incoming_ happened to be, it came whirling through the flaps of the tent before Lexie had the time to jump off her table, which had quickly become where she sat down to kill time.

"Grey, I need you on this, he needs a neuro consult _now_!" Hunt yelled over his shoulder as they kept on moving back towards the surgical section of the med tent. Neurology had been her specialty during residency, and she'd been pretty damn good at it, too. She was the only one on base who was qualified as any sort of neuro expert, which gave her the leg up in situations like this. Even despite having grown past complete agitation with Kepner, Lexie was struggling to repress the smile coming over her face as she rushed to follow behind them. Finally, something _good_.

Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, she made her way to the head of the makeshift table where they'd laid out their patient. "What do we have?"

"Lieutenant McQueen, thirty-one. Blunt force trauma to the head out in the field, has been having stroke-like symptoms all the way back to base. Has only two more weeks before he gets to go home." Internally, Lexie groaned. The last thing she'd needed was that tail-end statement, a guilt trip as means of incentive to do well on this one. To do right.

"Sounds like an aneurysm," she noted. "If it is, I need to get in there before it ruptures and causes a stroke or worse."

"What do you want to do, Grey?" Hunt asked, looking at her expectantly as she assessed as fast as she could, the procedure in her head flying down as she ticked off all the checks. Making sure he was still responsive. Not yet having said stroke.

"We don't have time for an MRI. If he's had the aneurysm on his brain before he got whacked, there's a chance it's already started to rupture and we're racing against the clock before he strokes or dies. I can cut him open and we can see nothing there, I can cut him open and it be a ruptured aneurysm and we have the same bet running." Lexie stared ahead, eyes focusing in on her patient's forehead as she tried to think as fast as humanly possible. Her mind was in competition with a much faster opponent, everyone was waiting for _her_ and they weren't going to move without her.

Her call.

"Fuck," she swore underneath her breath. "Someone get him on anesthesia _now_ , I'm opening him up."

She'd been in charge of surgeries before, back when she was still in a hospital, but this was her first chance to take charge and show she was made of something, that she wouldn't have made it over here otherwise. She scrubbed as fast as she could with what they had; they were trying to get the lieutenant under as fast as they could per her request. It was an urgent situation, this much she knew, and the fact they were diving in blind made it that much more terrifying.

Lexie took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. _You can do this, Grey. This is what you are good at, what you are meant to do._

"Alright," she directed as Kepner helped glove her, tugging down her mask. "We get in, we assess, and if he's ruptured, I need to repair as fast as I can before he hemorrhages again. Assuming the first time doesn't kill him as is." Lexie took a step closer to the makeshift operating table, hand extended. "Ten-blade."

Surgery was where Lexie could be as meticulous as she was in every other area of her life, but in trauma there was no such thing as meticulous since that implied there was time to do the job exactly as needed. She went about opening him up as quickly as she could, the clock ticking in her head as her brain spouted off random facts about aneurysms for whatever reason, a mechanism for dealing with the time-stress on her. The stress to excel in front of her peers, the stress to save this guy's life.

Of course, by the time she got in there, she was treated to the sight of exactly what she'd hoped not to find. Rupture.

"Shit, shit, _shit,"_ Lexie cursed, trying to see through all of the blood that had spread from the rupture. "He's ruptured, subarachnoid hemorrhage; I need—"

The words barely had time to get out before the monitor went postal, their heads all snapping up to see what the hell could have possibly gone wrong now. "BP is through the floor, push one of epi!" Kepner yelled. "Grey, what are you doing?"

"Trying to save this guy's life!" For a second, the bitter thought flashed through her mind that Kepner was perhaps blind, asking stupid ass questions that should have been ridiculously obvious.

"Charging paddles to two hundred, clear!"

Lexie stepped back as they tried to shock him, her eyes glued to the monitor. Her heart was sinking fast in her chest as reality started to settle with her. She'd never been the type to let reality run its course, but instead, she was always trying to fight it even when the war had been won. There was no bringing him back, not after that.

 _46% of all subarachnoid hemorrhages are fatal._ _If not repaired almost immediately, a second hemorrhage will emerge._

 _86% of those are fatal._

The time of death was already on her lips before anyone requested it to be called. And everything else that moved by was a blur, a blur that carried her out of that med tent as fast as she could bring her legs to carry her.

She was spent, drained, and the only things she needed was a strong drink and to pass out for a few hours. She couldn't recall the last time she'd lost a patient that fucking fast, and this was the first loss she'd taken personally. He'd been under her scalpel and just bled out there on the table, and sure, she couldn't have done anything to stop it, but that didn't stop it from eating away at her insides. All the losses got to her. _All_ of them, and she wished they didn't, but she'd long since given up locating the cure to not caring or feeling the aftershocks.

Matters only made themselves worse when she came whirling into her barracks, expecting to be able to get pissed, maybe cry into her pillow just a little (enough to expire all the self pity from her system anyways) in privacy but instead, she was treated to the sight of Mark Sloan sitting on her bed. That alone sent her jumping nearly five feet into the air, brushing the dangerous edge of what she was positive was a heart attack.

"What in the..." She carded a hand through her hair, the bewilderment of just him alone leaving her even more overwhelmed than she'd imagined possible. The last thing she needed right now was Mark Sloan grating at her already shredded nerves. "Don't you have a job? Things to do?"

If the sour tone in her voice burned in any of his wounds, he surely didn't let her know. "Damn, Grey," he muttered. "You're a tough crowd today. Thought you'd at least preface with a hello. Maybe a thing or to two find out why I'm wasting my time in here to start."

Lexie shook her head, as if the motion would relieve some of the clutter that was beginning to get top heavy and threatening to send an avalanche of emotion through her system. "Mark, I..." The words were snagging on the rough edges in her throat, hands taut as a wire as she wrung them out. "You—you need to leave."

That elicited a puzzled look from Mark, but it didn't stop him from pulling himself off of her bed anyways. His eyebrows furrowed together, the creases in his forehead jutting out as he did a quick once-over of her. She was strung out, eyes frantic, hands knotted in a white knuckle grip, voice scratchy and the corners of her eyes so red they might as well be well on their way to bloodshot. "What's wrong?" he asked carefully, softer this time. A gentleness that she'd only ever seen come from him once before, a sensitivity that was tied with a memory she didn't have room to reminisce on.

"Mark," she repeated, her fists balled up by her sides as the frustration started to consume her. "I'm fine, just...please, leave me alone."

"You're not fine, Lexie, you look like you're about to detonate. Tell me what's wrong," Mark coaxed, the concern in his voice enough to make Lexie want to throw up. She couldn't do this now.

"Leave me _alone_." She was stiff as a board, even once his hands moved over her arms to get her to hold still. She knew was in fight or flight mode, and her next reaction would a wild card if any, judging by how her request had drastically shifted into a threat.

"Talk to me." His request sounded much more like an order, eyes a steel defense as he stared straight-on at her.

The heel of her hand started to grind down into her eyes, trying to suppress the tears. "We had a guy come in, went straight into emergency surgery and they needed neuro so they called me, I'm the only neuro guy over here and the minute we opened him up he just...he just died. And I've been through the lost causes before, I can...I can handle a lost cause but _that_ , that was...he's going home in a body bag." She choked out a sob, masking itself as a laugh. "I can do a lost cause, but not like that. Not like today."

In her statistical mind, there were a plethora of different ways he could have possibly reacted. A fraction of them were expected of him, but if Mark Sloan was anything, he was unpredictable and left field. So out of all the things he could have possibly done in response to that confession, he started _laughing_. It was almost hollow, but his eyes were shut and his chest moving and she could only stare at him in utter bewilderment.

"What?" Lexie snapped, her vulnerability washing away as fast as she'd let it consume her as she tried to step right back up to the plate he'd clearly put back out on the field. "What's so funny?"

At best, the smile on his face was sadistic in nature. "You. You think you're the first person who's lost somebody, lost someone over here? Wake up and smell the smoke, Sunshine," he barked. "We lose more than we save, whether you're holding your fancy little knife or you're staring down the barrel of a gun. You think I haven't lost anyone before?"

"I didn't say that—"

"Well you sure as hell implied it." His hands were steady as they held her shoulders in place, her whole body trembling as though any second the raw emotion was going to erupt from her pores. "I've lost plenty of people, I've lost and failed so many that their ghosts piling on me ought to suffocate and kill me. But that's not an excuse. You don't get to shut down shop when shit goes wrong. You acknowledge it, you move the fuck on before your inability to do so costs somebody else."

"Fuck you," Lexie spat, the anger a live wire running across her skin and she was electrocuting everything in its wake with her tongue. "Sorry that I'm not desensitized to it, or that I haven't evolved into whatever emotionless, machine of a bastard breed you've derived from. I take all my losses personally because they're _my_ losses, and you don't get to tell me what I do and don't need to do in order to survive it. Excuse me for caring about what happens to the people I kill."

"Sweetheart, there's a difference between caring and grieving. You can't grieve every little mistake you make out here, or else you'll wind up dead yourself."

"What do you know, anyways?" she muttered, her voice still a low growl as she cast her head back down, refusing to look up at him where his eyes were desperate to pierce straight through her own. "You claim you don't feel the first thing to begin with, that insinuates you don't care as it is."

One of his hands found its way underneath her chin, coaxing it upwards reluctantly to get her to look at him. "I know way more than you'd think." There probably should have been something cryptic to his words considering which ones he'd chosen, planting a tiny red flag next to it, but they came falling from his lips without any emotion. Just words.

Lexie decided it was best to let them dissipate in the atmosphere.

She didn't realize how close they were standing to one another until Mark removed the last little bit of space between their bodies, his hands slowly dragging down her sides as her forehead brushed back down against his chest. The moment was intimate, heavy, and even though there was nothing sexual starting to gain friction there, she could feel his fingers beginning to fiddle with the hem of her shirt along her waistline.

"What...what are you doing?" Lexie asked quietly.

"Letting you get it out of your system," was his simple reply. Like this was how he dealt with everything also; physical contact and a hot mouth over already hot skin and whatever raw emotion moving through the muscles until they'd reached their peak and were worn out. It said enough to Lexie, about who he might have been keeping behind those iron walls. She pushed his hands away gently, shaking her head as she moved her arms around his waist.

"Not like this." Her voice was small and broken as she rested her forehead against his chest. " _Please_...can you just..." The rest of whatever she was planning on asking of him faded from her throat at the feel of his arms encircling her waist and along her shoulder blades. Lexie felt his chin rest somewhere along the crown of her head, where her hair had bunched up, a sigh pushing its way from his nose. His hands were large, enveloping as much of her under his fingers as he could get. This wasn't how he was used to coping, she could tell, and this wouldn't be how he'd seen it through had she asked differently of him.

Instead, he held her just for the moment.

* * *

 **Anyone else in pain after that chapter, especially when thinking about what the future will inevitably hold for these two? Sometimes I think that I really enjoy writing the timeline of the present with Lexie's recovery, then I just start writing in this timeline and I'm reminded exactly of what I set out to do with this story and basically do myself in. What about you guys, which one are you enjoying more: present or past? And of course, the origin of how Mark and Lexie finally became _Mark and Lexie_ or at least, somewhat anyways? The game the two of them play before strip poker is also known as Kemps for those of you who are curious! Let me know what you think (or feel, all are welcome) in the review box, conveniently located right beneath this author's note. Isn't that handy? xo**


	8. Chapter Seven

**I honestly don't know what I did to deserve any of you, but I'm so glad I have you guys on this journey with me; thank you times a _million_ for all your reviews and favorites and follows, they always push me to keep writing more and to be at the top of my game for you guys. Last chapter really was a fun one to write, I'm glad that you enjoy looking through the lens at their development and how we got to now. Definitely count on seeing more of that in the future. Blah, blah, insert disclaimer, blah, blah, not real things, blah...I've been Emily, and I love you more than words.**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

"I'll trade you this apple for your banana."

"Apples are an abomination of a fruit, you can _have_ it."

"Lexie," Kepner— _April_ _—_ whined, her shoulders slouching down. She still had the fruit in question extended out towards Lexie, even as Lexie made a show of peeling her banana. "Can't you take one for the team? Be a good person? All that other shit they preach about when you're...you know, becoming a doctor? Surgeon, soldier, decent person even? Sacrifice. It's necessary in life."

"I would rather be run over by a freight train than have to so much as touch an apple." She shrugged, taking a bite of her banana to enunciate her point and April's loss. "And damn, Kepner, I thought we didn't swear at one another."

"You are deplorable," April grumbled, followed by the crunch of her teeth sinking through the skin of the apple. Lexie laughed under her breath.

Lunch breaks weren't really lunch breaks there in the med tent; they never had anything such as a set lunch break on their schedules. Lunch was usually a granola bar or a piece of fruit to tide them over until they could break away from what they were doing to have another snack of the same variety. Lexie had never really minded, her mind being occupied elsewhere and the buzzing underneath her skin had always kept her from eating what one would consider a traditional meal and she'd learned to do with less. She was sure somewhere in the doctor bylaws, the habit was frowned upon of letting adrenaline and the hum of the environment and the trade keep her running rather than her body's true form of energy, but if it took her under, it would have dragged everyone else on base down with them. April, Hunt, and Jackson were just as bad as she was. If not worse; she'd seen Jackson go a whole day's worth on nothing but two Snicker bars he'd brought with him. She'd counted.

She wasn't sure when they'd morphed from Kepner to April and Avery to Jackson, but they had. Part of her lended it to the fact they were something like her friends now. She'd never had trouble making friends no matter where she found herself, and if the setting was any different, Lexie was sure she would have warmed up to them sooner.

The other part of her attributed it to the fact things in her life weren't as complicated as they had been when she'd first shipped herself off to the Middle East. The thought of a life back home was nonexistent, and things over here had settled into a routine she enjoyed. She _enjoyed_ being in the desert day in and day out.

April had also taken refuge onto Lexie's favorite table whenever they had breaks now, the two of them perched up there as they polished off their battery chargers for the time being. Lexie's legs dangled off the edge, kicking absentmindedly, while April kept hers folded neatly on the table top and a hand holding both of her ankles. "Think Hunt will have anything interesting when he gets back from his debriefing?" April asked, piercing through the silence that had briefly settled over them.

Lexie could only shrug in reply. "Don't really know. Even if he did, would he tell us?" Hunt typically operated on a starkly different schedule, meaning more often than not they were left in charge of running the med tent in his absence should anything happen. Most of the time, they used the opportunity to kill time and fiddle with their thumbs.

"Not unless he was taking one of us with him. Which I doubt he'll be doing. Ever."

"Your time will come, Kepner," Lexie reassured, nudging April in the arm with her elbow. "If anything, you'll be the first since your specialty's trauma."

April rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her apple. "That's assuming Hunt decides to feel in a giving mood anytime within the next...century."

All April wanted to do was get out into the field, go with Hunt on one of his assignments. Being a trauma surgeon automatically meant falling into the category of the worst of the worst adrenaline junkies, and April certainly fit the bill. All she wanted to do was get her hands in and get them dirty. Not only had it come coded in her, it was her current means of coping.

Before Lexie had the chance to respond, there was an unusual rustling of the flaps in the tent's opening and the loud sound of someone clearing their throat. Her head snapped over in its direction, expecting to see Hunt standing there waiting for them to get their asses down and get back to it. Instead, she was treated to an entirely different, much more welcomed sight.

There was Mark Sloan standing in the mouth of the tent, beginnings of a smile bending his lips as he stared at her with that glint in his eyes that meant nothing more than bad news.

"Dr. Grey," he greeted, folding his hands behind his back.

Lexie's heart snapped somewhere into her throat. "Major Sloan."

From beside her, April scoffed. "Formalities," she muttered under her breath. "You've seen each other naked I don't even know _how_ many times in the last week alone."

Lexie slapped April on the wrist with her banana peel. "Stop it, Saint Kepner."

She pushed herself off the table, making her way over to him after tossing her banana peel in the waste bins. Lexie stopped right in front of him with her feet only a few inches away from his, her hands rested on her hips and head cocked to the side as she looked up at him. "What brings you down here?" she asked, ponytail swishing to the side.

"I'm in dire need of a consult."

"Oh really?" One of Lexie's eyebrows lifted, a silent challenge. He nodded in response, his hands unfolding and reaching out for her. Lexie spun around to face April again, who looked somewhat nauseated and perturbed by the scene unfolding in front of her. "I'll only be gone a second, yell if Hunt comes back early?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever; _god_ ," April groaned, scooting back farther on the table as she used the hand still holding her apple to point at them accusatorily. "The two of you are the worst, I don't know how you haven't been written up for PDA yet."

Lexie could feel Mark's arms winding around her waist, slowly starting to pull her backwards to where he was standing outside. "We're just that good," she teased, shooting April a wink before she stopped resisting, letting Mark tug her completely through the flaps of the tent.

Her feet followed where Mark pulled her, back behind the side of the med tent where they were somewhat secluded from any potentially wandering eyes. His hands were quite comfortable resting on her hips, holding Lexie flush against him. "Consult, huh?" she asked quietly, smirking as she looped both arms around his neck.

"Yeah, I've been battling this rapid heart rate for the last couple of days." The grin on his face was sideways, his head ducking down and pressing a kiss on the edge of her jaw. "Whatever it is, it's probably serious."

The vibrations of his voice against her skin traveled down right to her bloodstream, delicious and a drug she'd only recently learned of her addiction towards. She sighed, a breathy laugh falling from her lips as her hands knotted in the hairs at the base of his neck as he started moving down the column of her throat, lips gentle and setting fires everywhere they touched. "You uh, you might wanna see Hahn since she's...she's car... _Mark._ "

"Are you denying me medical attention, Dr. Grey?" Mark's lips stopped somewhere at the base of her neck, right as they'd begun to curve along her collarbone, pulling away from her skin to look her dead in the eye.

"You're currently denying _me_ attention," she told him, her hands tugging him closer back to where he'd been.

"And you are one pushy woman." He didn't argue any more, like she'd thought there for a split second; instead, he jerked her hips even closer to him and caught her lips with his own. She sighed softly, melting into the embrace almost instantly.

Kissing Mark, touching Mark, being with Mark was like stepping right into the garden of Eden itself. He was a world she'd never explored before and she could have gotten so far lost in the feeling she would have been content in forgetting her own damn name. Fast, everything was fast; the way he had planted roots and how she'd fostered their growth so quickly in such little time, and how they now curled, tangled, ensnared her better judgment and her sense of reason and fuck, probably her libido too. Leaving was far from an option. Whether it was fun or it was a time-killer or it was something more—and Jesus, could Lexie feel something _more_ even if she never wanted to admit it to somebody like him—it consumed her entirely. Her world had gone into tunnel vision, only seeing him.

She was content with it being like that, too.

He kissed her until he needed to come back up for air, leaving her lips swollen and her not-a-hair-out-of-place-neat ponytail slightly tousled near the nape of her neck and her chest rising and falling dramatically as she tried to catch back up with the pace her heart was accustomed to. He kept her close, propping his chin up against the top of her head as she laughed, fist grabbing onto his dog tags absentmindedly. She ran her fingers over the raised type once, twice, a third time, looping around them until she could feel the letters there on her skin. _Sloan, Mark E. AB Negative. No pref._

"I like these on you," she mused, her forehead brushing against his chest as she watched herself twirl the chain of his dog tags around her index finger.

"I'd probably like them way better on you. Wearing nothing else, of course," Mark added. Lexie rolled her eyes, shoving him away playfully. "I'll even let you borrow them later so we can test my theory."

"Is that all you think about? Getting into my pants?"

He grinned, bearing both rows of pearly white teeth at her. "They're incredibly well-fitting pants, Grey."

"And _now_ you're sexually harassing me." It was Mark's turn to shake her off in dismissal, scoffing.

"Seriously," he said, voice shedding the teasing edge. "They're yours once I'm outta here."

Her eyes snapped to where his were, flitting over every corner of his blue irises to see if she could find where he'd gotten that from. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, a painfully genuine smile that he tended to only reserve for her that made her heart clench a little tighter in her chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn't have time to come out.

" _Lexie!_ "

* * *

"Lexie, just a minute ago you were talking to me about Major Sloan—"

"Mark," interjected Lexie.

Dr. Wyatt didn't seem fazed by the correction, blinking as she rested her pen down on the notebook. "Mark," she said, nodding. "You were talking about when you'd lost your first patient overseas and Mark's reaction to your own."

"Didn't realize there was a crime in sharing a good memory or two with you," Lexie mumbled, looking down at her hands. Her thumb was spinning, circling the surface of her palm absentmindedly. It was an immediate comfort mechanism, and talking about Mark always required some extent of comfort, some feeling of physical and tangible control over the situation. "Figured it wouldn't kill to give him a little development if I'm going to sit here and talk about him."

"There's not. You're welcome to share as much or as little as you'd like with me. I suppose I'm just trying to see the process on how we went from Point A to B." Dr. Wyatt tapped her pen twice against the surface of the notebook.

Lexie tried to bite back the acidic laugh in her throat. "Maybe that within itself is the point. It was always like that with Mark, at first. He went from one thing to another and you never could connect the dots, trace with your finger the journey of how he'd gotten there. One minute, he's telling you to get your shit together and grow up, the next he's, uh, you know. Kissing you and stuff. For awhile, he was a...well, Jackson called him a hurricane, guess that was kinda accurate. He was just unpredictable."

"Unpredictable how?" Dr. Wyatt prompted.

"We..." Lexie paused, chewing on her lower lip as she thought that one through. Mark had always been _unpredictable_ , but he'd given it an entirely definition than the one she'd memorized from the dictionary. "We were entirely different people, I guess. Well, _no_ , I know we were, but I think that's—that it's more than that. I knew he was a lot different than I was even before I figured the first thing out about him. But I wasn't able to read him. I'm...I'm observant, I guess, I'm usually able to ping a person right when I meet them. Like when I met my sister for the first time, I knew she had some deep-seated issues because of my dad and her mom, or, or when I met my best friend; I knew she was a lot like myself and that's really why I couldn't halfway tolerate her to begin with. Mark was different. I never knew what he was going to do next. I thought I'd have him figured out, all categorized and stashed away in a box, and then he'd say something that knocked the box right off the shelf. If that...you know. Makes any sense."

Dr. Wyatt nodded. "He was your juxtaposition. You thought you had yourself all figured out, and he knew he didn't. And that was what drew you to him." Lexie had never been able to put it into words that clear cut before—hell, most of her had just assumed it was the sexual attraction doing all of the talking when she'd started seducing him that night. "What was it that you were trying to figure out about yourself, Dr. Grey?"

Lexie could feel the blood flow to her heart momentarily pause. She didn't talk about her reasoning for going off and serving overseas; she'd only ever told one person the whole truth, and it hadn't even been April Kepner who sat with her one night outside of their barracks tent with tears in her eyes telling Lexie about her deceased son. If she was a computer, logical and statistical, the mentioning of Mark was merely sleep mode. The other stuff? It was a full blown shut-down.

"I...um, I still have his dog tags." It was a desperate attempt to veer the conversation back in a place that was certainly killing her, no doubt, but was better than the alternative. Talking about Mark hadn't gotten any easier in the slightest; it still hurt when her lips so much as started to form his name, the cracks only growing when she let the word leave her tongue, but there were just some things she'd put away somewhere, locked it up, and left the key in a place she'd never bother to return to. She saw no point in opening her equivalent of Pandora's box. Her voice was unnaturally high, eyes glancing back down into her lap at her hands. "His mother let me have them after...um, well, just after. She said...uh, she said she didn't really have any use for them. Not like she thought I would."

If Dr. Wyatt was eager to find out why the sudden turn left in topic—and Lexie knew, she was—she didn't make any note of pressing further on the nerve. She nodded, picking her pen back up and poising it over the next blank line. "And what's your use for them?" she asked.

She gave a half-hearted shrug. "They're him."

"They're him?" Dr. Wyatt repeated.

"It's all I really have of his. Aside from what's still in my head, all the memories and stuff, those dog tags are him. When I need him in some kind of physical form."

"You use them as a sort of crutch, then."

Lexie felt her defenses flare. "Not...really, no."

"Explain it to me, then," she encouraged, gesturing towards Lexie with her free hand. "When do you usually need Mark?"

"Whenever I've had a bad day. Whenever I've had...well, I don't really have many good days, but when it's a tolerable day. A day that moves by quicker than the others. Whenever my sister's on my case or Derek's being a little bit too nice to me. Just...whenever, I guess."

"Was Mark a place of support overseas?" Lexie nodded fervidly. "So when you had your good days and your bad days, he was who you turned to?"

"Yeah, that's...yeah."

"Did he usually get you through whatever you were experiencing?"

Again, Lexie nodded, this time a little less confident. "Mark projected a lot of things that he wanted for people to see, but he was always good at helping people. Helping others, helping me—being there for me, being whatever I needed for him to be. Even if it frustrated him to no end." A faint smile crossed her, the thought of Mark suppressing his own irritations and apprehensions towards the problem as he patted her on the shoulder, pushing her forward.

"And now that you're back home and you're going through something, you're still turning to him to get you through?"

"I guess so," Lexie admitted. "His tags are just...comforting, having them there with me. Like a security blanket, or something like that. Like I've uh, still got a hold on—"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence, as a faint knock on the door interrupted and stole the words right from her throat. Lexie had memorized the time well in her first few sessions, knowing every beat and pace and breath until Meredith came to take her back, and yet something about opening her mouth always seemed to unravel her quick. A natural talker, she was, and even when she was hellbent on not being so and that function still broken to a degree, she could still find herself off on a tangent far from where she'd started. Old habits and what they said of those rang true, even with PTSD plaguing one's brain.

Dr. Wyatt clicked her pen shut, folding over the cover on her notebook as Meredith started to push the door open. Lexie hadn't yet gotten a good enough peek inside that notebook; how many pages had she filled up thus far? What was she _saying_ in all the margins, in her notes, in between all of the millions of red flags she was probably staking in the ground the more and more she brought up about Mark? God, if Lexie was any good judge of herself right now at all, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"I enjoyed our session today, Lexie," she said, her voice warm and friendly like it always was. Lexie wasn't sure what part of it was necessarily enjoyable, especially considering what all she'd divulged on during this session, but she pressed her lips together and offered what she hoped looked like something of a smile. "We'll pick back up next week."

Another week of running through the same old circles, she was sure. Still avoiding that one little word.

* * *

 **I love this story. So much. Damn. Writing for these two is never not an adventure, and getting into my baby Lexie's head is always a fun walk in the park. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do. Any ideas of why Lexie doesn't talk about her motives for serving overseas? I'm interested in your thoughts! Also, would you guys maybe be interested in the link to the playlist I use as my sort of "soundtrack" for this story? It's in no means complete, but I've got a little something on Spotify all compiled together of songs I write to for this, songs that inspired it...so yeah, just let me know what you think about that. I'm incredibly excited about the next chapter, there's going to be quite a handful of a character that has already made their entrance in this story and I think you guys are gonna like it. Make sure you leave a review on your way out, and I just might be able to squeeze in another update for you guys this weekend! xo**


	9. Chapter Eight

**I swear, reading all of your reviews are the highlight of writing this story, they really are. I appreciate each and every one of you so much, even if I am slowly killing you all with the angst this story has to offer. Don't worry though, I'll have some happy Slexie stuff coming your way in the near future. And in the words of my dearest friend Mel, who had quite the bone to pick with me after reading while I was roaming through the aisles of the grocery store trying to decide between chocolate or fruity popsicles: your heart won't be able to handle it. So so** ** _so_** **much more to come. I plan on dragging this bad boy out for a long while. So, insert a generic ass disclaimer here, remember to review in case you completely neglect my AN at the end telling you to do so, and it is confirmed canon that Mark and Lexie are alive living somewhere in the Bahamas with their three kids.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

The last thing she remembered seeing before she was somewhere else entirely was the ceiling fan.

It wasn't uncommon for her to dream; ever since she could remember, she had always been a very vivid dreamer. Each morning, Lexie could wake up and recall most details of her dreams, often left wondering if it hadn't been a dream at all. Her dreams always came in technicolor, whether she wanted them to or not. Before coming home, most of her dreams were generally pleasant, with the occasional rogue tornado or band of assassins hunting her down. Now, they all followed a scale of pain—how much it either pained her to wake up or how much in pained her to stay trapped.

She didn't recall when exactly she'd slipped away into her mind, all she was certain of first was that she was no longer back in the middle of Seattle, she was somewhere where it was dark, little amounts light trickling in from some source she'd yet to identify, and she could almost _taste_ the familiar scent of aftershave floating in the air next to her.

Lexie moved, which came in the form of rolling over—apparently, she was in a bed—hands stretching along the empty expanse of bed next to her. The sheets didn't feel quite like her own, but the fabric under her fingertips was a misplaced acquaintance. She'd been exposed to them before, she was sure of it, she just couldn't figure out where.

Right about the time a yawn rippled through her, a door opened, light flooding through the room and blinding her. She winced, burying her face into the mattress and groaning. Laughter from someone else echoed around her, growing closer and closer until she felt the bed near her knees dip. "You can't sleep the day away, Lex."

At some suppressed level of her subconscious, her heart was clenching and the pain moving its way through her aching ribs. _So this is how this one's going to go._

Lexie groaned again, muffled as she reached for the covers to tug over her head. "Yes I can," she grumbled. "That's what I'm trying to do. Or at least, I was, up until you so rudely interrupted." A hand rested on her back, right in between both her shoulder blades and fingers splayed out as they stroked small circles over the bare expanse of skin.

"If you get up now, the water in the shower will still be hot."

"Mm, what's the point of taking a shower if you're not in it?"

Another peal of laughter reverberated through the mattress. "C'mon, Lex."

She dragged her hands along the sheets, pulling the upper half of her body upright. The sheets pooled around her waist, bending her knees—both of them—as she slid closer to him. He was warm underneath her touch, hot blood rushing through his veins, color in his skin, blue eyes alive as he turned his head to look at her. This was how she remembered him, or how she liked to, anyways. Alive. Next to her. Happy. The edges of his lips had curled, smiling at the sight of her as one of his hands made its way underneath her chin and tilting it upwards so she was looking right at him. She was trying to relish in the sight of him, hold onto him in this moment for as long as she could. "Mark." His name was a prayer, a reverie, a goddamn cry for help as she wound both hands around his upper arm.

"Hi beautiful."

"I miss you," she whispered quietly, holding onto him as though she was scared if she dared to loosen up even the slightest bit, he was going to fall apart and crumble right there in her fingertips. "I miss you _so much_."

Her voice was broken, no longer able to hold a smile on her face. One of Mark's hands ran back through her hair, his fingers stopping to play with a messy curl that had fallen in her eyes. "I know, sweetheart." She clung tighter to him, her fingers locking together as she rested her chin on his shoulder. "But you're doing just fine without me. You didn't need me to begin with."

Lexie shook her head furiously, blinking rapidly to hold the already forming tears in her eyes at bay. "Mark, stop..." She exhaled, pulling herself as close to him as she possibly could so she could still feel the life beating in his chest, holding onto what she knew was nothing more than a product of a fever. Her chin stayed on his shoulder, looking up at him and biting down on her lip to keep herself from crying. "No, I needed you. I needed you more than I could have ever put into words. You were...you were everything to me."

A deep rumble in his chest vibrated through his skin as he laughed, his hand trailing down the planes and curves of her cheek and jaw. "I never would have left you by choice, Lexie Grey. You know that. But we can't change what happened to me. To you."

"You sound exactly like my therapist."

"Maybe I should have gone to school for psychology," he teased. "Dr. Sloan certainly has a ring to it, does it not?" Lexie rolled her eyes, giving him a slight push as she leaned farther into him. "Do you like going and talking with your therapist?"

"And now you sound like Meredith and Derek," she deadpanned.

"It's a legitimate question, Lex."

She sighed. "I...guess." Mark's thumb kept slowly running along her jawbone, eyes watching her carefully as she contemplated the next part of her answer. "I finally started talking in there after Meredith and I got into it again, but once I open my mouth, I just—it...it all comes out. Even if I don't want to say it because I know it's going to spark a whole other thing that I don't want to think about, it all just keeps coming and coming like floodgates, and I'm not ready. I'm not ready to deal with that, Mark."

"But you will eventually," Mark pointed out. Her emotions suppressed themselves long enough to mask as annoyance, cutting him a glare. "I'm serious, Lexie. You practically invented bottling things up, and you see it as a defense mechanism, but it just eats away at you from the inside out the longer you go holding onto it like it's your last lifeline. It isn't healthy, baby."

"You're not supposed to be helpful, you know," she mumbled. "You're supposed to take my side in all this, tell me that I'm not being unreasonable, validate me."

He sighed as he tucked another piece of hair behind her ears, his eyes swollen with concern. "You promised me you weren't gonna do this."

"Yeah, well..." Lexie couldn't find any kind of excuse to back her up, not really bothering to search for one to start with. She knew he was right. "Am I crazy?" she finally asked. "I mean, have I gotten to the point where they just need to admit me into psych and let my brain finish evolving into cotton candy? I don't want to deal with my problems, I don't want to deal with the people who want for me to deal with my problems, I just want to live in my head; all of my dreams and nightmares. Just because I know you're gonna be there. Even I can admit that doesn't sound the most... _emotionally benefiting_."

"You're trying though, are you not?"

"Define trying."

Mark sighed. "You get up every day whether you want to or not, you do all the stupid shit Meredith and Derek have signed you up for, you spend time with your niece, and you exist until it's time for you to go back to sleep. Correct?" Lexie nodded. "Okay then, sounds like you're trying to me."

"Well it sure as hell doesn't feel like it."

"Well," Mark replied, his hand settling along her jawline and thumb resting on her cheek. "You are. You're hard on yourself and you know it, so you aren't going to see any kind of effort until you do something ridiculously drastic to _force_ yourself to see it. That's just how you are. But I promise you, you're _trying_. And you're getting there. I see it."

For a moment, she stared at him, watching as his shoulders rose and fell ever so slightly as he breathed. Her eyes were flitting over his, trying to drink in as much of him as she could before the moment was gone. He hadn't deserved what he'd been handed. Despite what he always thought of himself, she knew he'd deserved better. He'd deserved a long and happy life, with _her._ He didn't deserve to be present only when she dreamed and her brain decided to show some mercy on her poor heart. One of his shoulders lifted in a half-hearted shrug, trying to make light of the moment, she could tell, but the words that followed only got her head trapped in an even more morbid loop. "God knows if the roles were reversed, I just would have gone ahead and buried myself alive in the casket with you. You were always the stronger one, Lex." _Lie_ , she thought to herself. _I'm still just barely holding myself together._ "They always call it 'your better half' for a reason."

"It's easier talking to you," she admitted softly. "Wyatt, Meredith, Derek, Callie...they all want for me to _say something._ They want for me to say something, anything, open up and all that other shit they consider progress, but I know that they're really just looking for me to say what they _want_ to hear out of me and I can't, Mark, I can't...I can't do it." The edges of her voice started to snap, a sob threatening to break through her throat. "I don't want to talk about you, I want to talk _to_ you. Everything is...god, it's all just easier with you."

Mark looked at her for a moment, before tugging her closer to him and in one fluid motion, pulling her into his lap. She wound herself around him almost instantly, legs and arms and all, burying her face in the crook of his neck as she breathed him in like he was oxygen and her lungs were on fire. He held her tightly, arms rubbing her back gently, the tears like thorns starting to build pressure in her eyes. _I don't want to let go. Please don't make me let go. Please don't make me leave him._ She could feel him exhale deeply as he rested his chin on top of her head, pressing a kiss against her hair. "You know where I am if you ever need to find me."

That was the last thing she remembered seeing before she opened her eyes to the sight of Meredith crouched over her.

"I let you sleep in as late as I could," Meredith said gently once she saw that Lexie was awake, patting the edge of the comforter. "We have about twenty minutes before we need to be pulling out of the driveway, do you want me to fix you something for breakfast?"

Lexie bit back the sigh. "No, I'm okay."

Meredith didn't seem fully convinced by her answer, but she nodded anyways. She'd made her way over to the door, most likely to let Lexie get dressed in peace, before stopping. "Do you want me to braid your hair?"

That was particularly unusual, and underneath the comforter Lexie had to pinch the side of her hip to make sure she wasn't still in the midst of one of her dreams. It was almost uncharacteristic of her to offer such a thing up, usually if Lexie wanted it she had to ask. She took a second to process, before shaking her head in confirmation slowly. "Uh...yeah," she replied. "Yeah, that's fine. Sure."

"Just come down when you're ready," was Meredith's response before leaving the room.

It took Lexie a moment to gather herself up and pull herself from bed; her mind was still reeling from the very _real_ Mark that had been with her what felt like only seconds ago, her senses still swearing up and down he had truly been there. Registering back into reality, a reality where he wasn't there and she was living in her trenches of ruts took her a minute as she got into her wheelchair, grabbing the clothes off her dresser Meredith must have laid out while she was still spending her time in Mark's arms.

Getting dressed, brushing her teeth, splashing some water on her face, all of which was at a Meredith-approved pace was a chore in Lexie's mind, and especially following after being ripped from a dream she wanted nothing more to enter back into, she was glad Meredith had made the offer to do her hair. As she rolled back through into her bedroom, she spotted Mark's tags sprawled out on the edge of her nightstand, the chain all in an extended tangle.

Her heart ached at the sight alone, hearing his voice echo out. _You know where I am if you ever need to find me._

Lexie made her way into the living room, where her sister was already perched on the couch watching the news as she absentmindedly twirled the hairbrush in her hands. She visibly brightened a little at the sight of Lexie up and moving, motioning her over and helping adjust her wheelchair in front of the couch properly where she could best access her hair. Meredith had the hands of a surgeon as they moved over her scalp, tugging at her hair. She was skilled, precise and efficient, but in no way was she gentle. She was Meredith right down to the motions, tough and almost unforgiving.

They boarded up in the car and were off, the ride nothing out of the ordinary as expected. Meredith was focused on the traffic, and Lexie was quiet, mostly wrapped up in her thoughts. She was clutching desperately to the fading sight of Mark in her mind, how he'd held her, the sound of his laugh and the smell of his aftershave, the way the light of the bathroom had floated around him like a halo—

Arriving at PT was a near blessing, Lexie thankful when Meredith put the car in park and went around to help her get out. She wouldn't have the room for him to dance around her head, because Callie Torres was going to put her to work today come hell or high water. It was a nice distraction on days like these.

Usually, Callie was the first person to greet her when they came walking in, way before the doors had opened to reveal them. If Lexie Grey was anything, she was clockwork; always on time, always falling into step with her routines, never once failing. Even as the doors peeled back and Lexie started to roll herself over the threshold, Callie was nowhere within sight with her typical greeting. She wasn't even in the room.

Instead, sitting on the edge of the bed was a blonde, humming to herself and staring over at the clock on the wall. _Arizona._

"Oh!" she exclaimed the minute she realized she was no longer alone in the room. "It's Lexie, right? I'm sorry, I didn't realize your appointments were this early—or that Calliope just kept me this late. I'm not surprised she does it, though. For some reason she likes to check up on my prosthetic even when I tell her it's fine. Personally, I like to think I'm just really good company."

Lexie snickered. "I'm sure." Arizona cracked a smile at that.

"I can wait until Callie gets back," Meredith piped up with her offer, Lexie seeing that she was still leaning against the door frame and watching their interaction with a bit of hesitancy. Lexie shook her head in dismissal.

"It's fine," she insisted. "Really. I'm sure Callie will be back any minute. You can go now." Meredith didn't seem thoroughly convinced by this, and looked past her sister over at Arizona. If it were possible, her smile grew wider, nodding fervidly and throwing in an affirming thumbs-up to follow.

"Is that your sister?" Arizona asked after Meredith left, the doors eventually moving to close shortly after her departure. Lexie nodded. "I hope you don't take any offense to this, but it doesn't look like she enjoys being here with you all that much."

"I think that's just Meredith's face," Lexie admitted. "Trust me, all of this was her doing. She wouldn't let me skip an appointment even if I was dead."

She paused for a moment, hardly realizing how insensitive it came out until the words were already hanging in the air. It didn't seem to bother Arizona any; Lexie wondered if there was possibly anything that would visibly damper the blonde's mood. She'd been all smiles and rainbows ever since Lexie had first met her, and this was coming from a woman who was in physical therapy because of a plane crash. Lexie didn't know how that was possible, seeing as how all the smiles and rainbows had been sucked right out of her after what she'd gone through. _To each their own_ , she figured. "I just don't think she likes how slow things are going. In her world, I'd come to two, maybe three sessions, and then I'd be magically cured. We've _just_ graduated to once-a-week meetings," she said.

Arizona gave a slight nod, resting her hands in her lap. "She doesn't get it," she stated plainly.

"To say the least, yeah."

"Don't let it bother you. Besides," Arizona said, motioning down towards the pants leg Lexie knew concealed her prosthetic. "You don't really know _what_ it's like until you're the one sitting on the bed with the peg-leg."

"I'm... _peg-leg_?" Lexie sputtered out, choking on the words as the impact of such brash words hit her square in the face.

Arizona, who didn't seem to be affected at all by her choice of words, shrugged, face slightly twisting up at Lexie's reaction. "Look, there's two ways you can go about it: you either get the thing and wallow in self pity for the rest of your life because 'you've been in a plane crash, you lost your leg, you have the right to be pissed at the world,'" she mimicked. "Or, you get the thing, and you get back to living your life, and take an alarming and rather dark sense of humor with you when you go. I _know_ I'm not the same person as before, after what happened to me, but that's not supposed to be the case. Your life changes. You're going to be different, you're supposed to be. Your sister will eventually realize that."

Lexie watched her as she spoke, mind racing. She was getting the impression that had Arizona Robbins had any sort of secrets, they wouldn't have laid at some sub-basement level. Bright, smiley, and unabashedly blunt; it was almost baffling, how strong of steel armor rested behind the outer appearance that certainly never would have looked the part. And while it was puzzling her, inside it was liberating.

 _Finally_ , for once, someone wasn't treating her like she was made out of glass. Like if they said the wrong thing in front of her, she'd crumble, like if they sent her off to one therapy session she'd come back super-glued in one piece. Arizona wasn't trying to analyze her and stuff her in a box. She was unpacking, and god, could Lexie have wept tears of joy.

A gentle smile worked over Arizona's lips as she reached out and rested one of her hands on the edge of the closest handle attached to Lexie's wheelchair. "I mean it. She'll come around, no matter how complicated she is. And if she doesn't, let me know. The smiling exterior usually disarms the parents I work with enough that I eventually get through to them."

"Do you..." Lexie found herself blurting out, the question escaping her mind the minute she opened her mouth to talk. She awkwardly gestured at the lower half of Arizona's body, one of her shoulders kinking in a half-shrug. "How long did it take you to get used to it?"

"What, the robot leg?"

"Um, yeah...that," Lexie replied stiffly. She paused for a moment, and then shook her head. "I guess—I mean, as opposed to _what_ , exactly?"

"Once you put that prosthetic on, it's a whole new world of crazy you've got to adjust to. It's like losing your leg all over again; was for me, anyways. Only difference here is that you get to decide what you keep and what you lose." Arizona scratched her head. "Did you try one on last week?" she asked.

Lexie nodded. "Yeah, it was okay. We messed around with it for a little while after I tried it on, she let me get comfortable with it, that kind of thing."

"Well that's not the fun stuff," Arizona muttered, rising off the bed and leaving Lexie sitting there, confused. She disappeared into the office attachment on the physical therapy room, staying gone for a few moments before she peeked her head out of the door frame holding the same prosthesis Lexie had worked with last week in her hands. "This it?"

"What are you _doing_?" she hissed as Arizona came sauntering back over with a determined look in her eye. "God, Callie is going to strangle you."

" _Calliope_ ," she insisted, kneeling down in front of Lexie and pushing the foot rests out of the way so she had clear access to her legs. "Will get over herself. She might be your doctor, but she's not in here right now."

Lexie cocked an eyebrow. "What are you going to do if she comes back in here and chews us out?"

Arizona stopped for a moment, inclining her head to the side. "I hear I have authority issues, so I'll probably run out of here before she can yell at me properly." Lexie scoffed in response.

"Splendid."

She rolled her eyes, helping Lexie adjust the sock on her leg. "Listen, I get it, okay? I was in your shoes a year ago; I hated coming in here, I hated doing all of this, I hated feeling like I needed to be _helped_. And not to be one to assign a shoe to a foot, but I'm guessing you're right there in that boat now, Cinderella. This is Callie's job. She's paid to help you out, get you on your feet, nothing more. Not to say she isn't brilliant at what she does, but...I just, I get it, alright? I get it. And you look like you could use somebody who gets it in your corner."

Lexie stared at her as she worked, unsure of what to say. Arizona was right, of course, even if the thought hadn't been circulating through Lexie's mind to start. She liked being behind closed doors and isolated away from her sister and brother-in-law, because that was when she was with the people who understood it: herself. And even though she didn't know the first thing about Arizona aside from her being in a plane crash, knowing Callie, and also having a prosthetic, and certainly didn't know if Arizona was even qualified to be doing something like this (she probably wasn't) she liked talking to her. Liked talking to her more than Wyatt, liked her _much_ more than she liked forcing to keep up a conversation with Meredith or Derek. Arizona got it, and it felt as though someone had finally slid the right piece into the last spot of the puzzle in side her.

Lexie didn't need all of the coddling or the good-cop-bad-cop or whatever tactics Meredith and Derek and Wyatt had up their sleeves for dealing with her and trying to iron out her wrinkles. She just needed somebody who _got it_.

Even though this was probably going to end in disaster; at least she was feeling something other than empty, a rare feat for her as of late.

Arizona finished adjusting the prosthetic limb on Lexie, leaning back on the balls of her feet. "Everything feel comfortable?" she asked. Lexie nodded after a moment, the foreign feeling of something being in the place where she'd grown accustomed to feeling nothing still registering in her system. "Do you want to maybe try to stand?"

"Okay, now _that_ sounds like a bad idea."

Both of Arizona's eyebrows raised. "I asked if you wanted to try it, not if you thought it was the best idea I've ever had."

Lexie only thought about it for a brief second; it all boiled down to this being by far the most engaging therapy session she'd ever had, one that wasn't leaving her feeling a thousand percent drained, and she didn't have anything to lose. Meredith was still sitting outside.

"I guess we can give it a try," she finally concluded, Arizona breaking out into a mischievous grin.

She reached down and put the breaks on Lexie's wheelchair up after rolling it flush against the edge of the bed, her attempt at keeping things secure. Arizona extended both arms, one hand resting on her shoulder and ready to hook under when she needed, the other wrapping around Lexie's hand. "I have to warn you, this really is a textbook case of the blind leading the blind here. Or, well, I guess it's the handicapped leading the handicapped." She shook her head. "Either way, this is probably a very bad idea and Callie is probably going to kill us."

"You've already talked me into it, Arizona, at this point it's all the more reason to go through with it. If we're going down, might as well go down in style."

From beside her, Arizona was grinning. "Look at you, already making your first joke about it."

They started to move, Lexie moving her other foot down flat against the floor as she prepared to stand up. This was more than she and Callie had done; Callie had been the one to do most of the work, and Arizona on the other hand was going to give as much as she could but it wasn't going to be enough, surely. All of their movements were slow, allowing Lexie to adjust as much as she could within the limits of Arizona's assistance. As she slowly began to lift herself out of her seat, she kept her grip so tight on Arizona she already knew she was going to leave bruises. Lexie was determined, though. She finally felt like she was in a place where she could _feel_ determined and not simultaneously exhausted from all the mental energy determination required of her.

"C'mon, there you go. Take your time; talk to me if you want," Arizona encouraged, keeping her hands steady.

"Why...why do you always crack jokes about your leg?" Lexie asked, breathing through her nose as she gripped tighter onto Arizona trying to find her balance. She hadn't stood on her own in what felt like an eternity, and Arizona hadn't been kidding when she said this was only kicking down the doors to reveal a whole new world of adjustments.

"I work with kids," Arizona explained, her voice soft as she let Lexie focus more on what she was doing rather than what she was saying. "Kids don't have a filter, kids aren't afraid to ask questions or make statements that their parents are usually horrified by, they just see what's there in front of them and whatever comes to mind is what they say. They don't know any better, they're kids. I figure if I can laugh about it too, they don't feel as bad when their parents start scolding them for saying something." She shook her head slightly. "I work with kids who are sick and in the hospital when they should be healthy and playing outside. They deserve to laugh, even if I'm the punchline."

Lexie nodded, gritting her teeth as she started to slowly but surely straighten out her back, trying to keep a hold on what little balance she'd conjured in her mind as having. "You're doing good, Lexie, keep going. I've got you. I've got you."

And they kept going, Lexie moving slow and maintaining her death grip without any fail as she tried to relearn balance and standing and all of it at an overwhelming pace, sure, but with Arizona standing next to her. She glanced over after a moment at Arizona, a smile erupting on her face in a short burst. She was pushing herself to her limits, no doubt. But she was _doing_ it.

"What the hell are you two doing?" A voice echoed angrily from behind Arizona, most likely the signal of Callie's arrival as it pierced straight through her concentration.

"Standing," Arizona called over her shoulder nonchalantly. "She's doing good, isn't she?"

"You two are _maniacs_ ," Callie spat, Lexie catching sight of her storming over towards them. She slacked up on Arizona, her silent tap-out and Arizona gently helping her back down into the wheelchair.

Callie was by her side in a split second, Arizona turning to beam at her. "She did good, didn't she?" she prodded again, eager to milk out the validation solely on Lexie's behalf. She huffed, tossing her hand around in dismissal.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. I'm officially banning you from this gym on days Lexie has PT, you two are a danger to one another."

"Lexie and I get along just fine," Arizona insisted. Lexie's eyes kept darting back and forth between the two women, from Callie kneeling down to examine Lexie's prosthetic to Arizona standing up straight with both her hands on her hips.

"And that right there is exactly what scares me most about all of this. Not only are you bad for one another, but you're cut from the same damn strip of cloth. It's like the two of you _want_ for me to get sued for negligence, leaving my clients for all of five minutes for them to run amok and nearly kill themselves." Callie lifted her head, looking at Lexie sternly. "That was stupid, I hope you know that." Lexie shrugged, and Callie sighed. "It was somewhat progress, but stupid progress."

She then swiveled around, glaring up at Arizona. "But _you're_ still banned."

Arizona ignored Callie entirely, shooting Lexie a wink.

* * *

 **This update took a little longer than I'd anticipated but I wanted to make sure I did it justice! Arizona, my love...my light. She's another relationship we got played out of on Lexie having in canon so what do I do? I _make_ it my own canon. She's not going to be the only new character with a fun role to play in this story, there's a few more familiar faces coming your way within the next few chapters as well that either haven't been introduced or you haven't seen that much of yet! And, listen, the dream bit with Mark made just about everyone cry that I had read over it out of fear it wasn't good enough so I apologize, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. Make sure to lemme know what you thought, all your comments and feelings and what you want to see next is more than welcome down in that pretty little review box below. Chyler would want you to do it. Do it for her. xo**


	10. Chapter Nine

**Hello my lovelies! I'm currently weeping away at Halsey's new single which I recommend you all check out, like...yesterday, and I think it's a lovely time to finally update this bad boy! School of course, loves getting in the way, but the semester is just about over which means much more updating and some new stuff to come. Please remember to review at the end, it makes my day, really. This chapter, though it is late, is dedicated to my Belle, who I don't know what I'd do without anymore; happy birthday my love! Usual disclaimers apply, it's probably a good thing I own nothing considering how this story's gone so far, and Chyler Leigh invented the concept of wearing lingerie.**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

Asking Arizona to follow the rules was apparently a moot thing, because even when Callie brought Lexie in a few days before her regularly scheduled appointments to try out another fitting of her slightly modified prosthetic, Arizona was sitting in an office chair right along the wall with a devilish grin sprawled over her face.

"I thought you were banned," Lexie teased.

"She can't say no to the woman with a robot leg, it's cruelty."

Callie, who was in her office, made a loud sort of strangled noise in response. Lexie looked over at Arizona for some sort of explanation, both of her eyebrows furrowing together despite the growing smile on her face. "She's not willing to admit it, but you and I made progress last time and she thinks it's good for you. My being here, anyways," Arizona said, emphasizing the whispered tone of her voice as if it was a secret she was exchanging, the two of them like little girls.

"What you two did last time was stupid as hell," Callie noted as she emerged from her office, Lexie's prosthetic in hand. "And believe me, I'm not dismissing it. It is the first time I've seen you remotely interested in doing anything, though, so I figure as _long as I'm present in the room_ , it's worth the try." She shot a pointed look at Arizona to accompany the heavy stress on her instructions, but Arizona was much too busy smiling at Lexie to notice.

"Hey, I was interested in doing all of the massage therapy stuff," Lexie protested. Callie simply rolled her eyes at the excuse.

"Lexie, I'm your doctor, not your priest. You don't have to lie to keep me satisfied or spare my feelings." She snatched the medical file—most likely Lexie's—out of Arizona's hands with her spare one. "I know you're still dealing with a lot of PTSD, and while this isn't the place you come to deal with that, I think it'll maybe be beneficial for you to have her in here with you. A support system."

"A _decent_ support system," Arizona corrected. "No offense, but your sister's idea of support is underwhelming and somewhat terrible."

Lexie looked over at Callie, lips unfolding into a beaming smile. "I like her."

"Yeah, I know," Callie grumbled. "Match made in heaven."

Callie's instructions were incredibly detailed and specific; despite Arizona being allowed back in the room, Callie wasn't about to take any more liabilities with the two of them. They could request to have the room alone if they needed, but they weren't allowed to use Lexie's prosthesis under any circumstances without Callie's presence and assistance. If Callie wasn't in the room, Lexie wasn't allowed to get up from wherever she was stationed without Callie's assistance. Arizona was not allowed to grab the handles on Lexie's wheelchair and make a run for it. The list of their rules went on and on and on, the two of them exchanging looks every so often as Callie droned on. They felt like teenagers in the middle of detention, their prison warden of a supervisor lecturing them on mostly the things they couldn't do.

But Callie kept her word. She was a silent ubiquity, only making herself known when Arizona and Lexie were ready to try walking. Callie had gotten out the parallel bars for them to use, allowing Lexie as much support as she needed by keeping the maximum amount of distance she could. Arizona did most of the motivation, and Lexie did the physical work, and Callie popped in whenever her services were required.

Arizona, Lexie quickly learned, had missed on her true calling as a life coach. Lexie attributed it to the fact that Arizona somehow understood her in a way that Lexie herself hadn't quite learned how to label yet, because she knew where to push and where to let up. She knew where to joke and where to stay serious. She knew, and she used it to keep her going. Callie had been right: before now, Lexie hadn't been the slightest bit interested in PT, she just put on the act to keep Meredith appeased and used it as her crutch for when her emotions got the better of her. PT was the place to get her frustrations out, the place she could cry when the physical pain got at her, and that was the only sort of haven it served as.

She was _in_ _it_ now, she knew what being in it was like and she wanted more. Lexie was hard on herself, exactly as Mark had told her and what she knew quite explicitly as well, and she always wanted to go the extra limit, even if it was clearly a bad idea by Callie's standard, which she always wore on her face. There were no bad ideas off limits in Arizona's world. They existed, but they weren't definite structures. Limits were meant to be prodded and pushed.

Because Lexie had finally settled on a prosthetic model she liked, Callie's prescription was more frequent visits to work on getting used to standing with it, regaining her balance and moving towards the next milestone of walking. And Arizona seemed to make each little thing easier as Lexie hammered herself into the ground pushing herself. But all of Arizona's cheerful and sunshine and rainbows didn't ward off the darkness forever, it didn't alleviate any of the pressure.

In hindsight, Lexie could see herself breaking sooner rather than later.

It happened on their fourth or fifth session, Lexie wasn't entirely sure. They'd all started to bleed into one another, coming higher in frequency and shorter in length throughout the weeks. She was coming in every other day, it seemed, and while she could ward off most of the physical exhaustion as long as she needed to, it was the mental tiredness that was starting to eat at her. And of course, the only thing she needed to push her to her breaking point was having another nightmare that previous night of Mark's death, again.

She'd come in with bags under her eyes and swollen eyelids from where she'd woken up screaming and in tears, not even one of Arizona's usual greeting prods bringing the light back into her irises. Callie knew something was off after taking one look at her; she'd seen Lexie through one of these days before and was aware of how to handle her. Arizona, however, wasn't.

Come to think of it, Lexie wasn't even sure Arizona knew the Mark situation was a thing unless Callie had filled her in.

"Lexie Grey, Lexie Grey," Arizona sang as they got Lexie's sock on. "Ready to do some walking today?"

For a moment, Lexie just stared at her. Arizona, full of light and bliss and the overall epitome of the walking smiley face symbol, currently her complete contrast with the way she felt. "You're such a pediatrics person," she noted, and even though there was a hint of malice edging at her voice, Arizona didn't notice. That, or she chose to ignore it entirely.

"I had the sneakers with the wheels on the heels; I'd skate to and fro on the peds floor. You're preaching to the choir, sister."

From the corner of her eye, Lexie could see Callie begin to bristle uncomfortably. She knew where this was going; she was, after all, the physical therapist. She knew how things went down here on days like this, and Arizona didn't. It was there on her face that she wanted to step in and drag Arizona out of the equation, but she kept quiet.

They had the parallel bars in place; Arizona was flocking to the left of Lexie while Callie kept her distance to the right, fist resting against her pursed lips as she watched on quietly. With the guiding of Arizona's hand on the small of her back to help her stand, Lexie's hands clung onto the bars with a white knuckled death grip. Usually in her mind, she was screaming at herself and grinding her teeth down as she kept herself upright and steady. Arizona nodded for Callie to move in a little closer while she stepped away; another thing that they'd quickly adopted into their already unorthodox routines was to play music in the background while they worked. Lexie and Arizona had similar tastes and it tended to lighten the mood.

"No music," Lexie quickly spat out, taking a deep breath as she went back to focusing on holding herself upright. Arizona stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder at Lexie with a puzzled look on her face.

"You sure?" she asked. Lexie nodded quickly.

"I'm sure."

She stood there for a moment, staring straight ahead as she willed herself to walk. Her mind was about as clear as the desert on a windy day; her thoughts were clouded by her incredibly vivid nightmares that still haunted her long after they were over. Mark's face was at the forefront of it all with every slow and painful step she made forward, Arizona's voice merely background music. Days like this were hard, add on the fact she was doing something just as physically and mentally exhausting on its own and Lexie was questioning how she was still keeping herself on two feet. The prosthetic felt like added weight, a foreign attachment along with the rest of her body as she moved.

 _Step forward._

 _ **Mark.**_

 _Bring the other foot up._

 ** _Mark._**

 _Breathe._

 ** _Mark's no longer breathing._**

Her clever mind, willing the rest of her body to speak the same language it was rolling in, was dragging her below the surface.

"Stop," Lexie finally said after she'd made it about halfway through, loosening her grip a little on the bars. "Stop... _stop_. I need..." Callie was by her side in an instant, one hand along Lexie's shoulders and the other resting near her lower back.

"You wanna sit down for a minute, Grey?" she prompted, and Lexie nodded.

They got her adjusted back over where the bed was, helping her sit back down on the edge. "Do you want a minute alone with Arizona?" Callie asked again softly, Lexie too preoccupied in her fumbling as she tried to get her prosthetic off. Already, she could feel a knot starting to form in her throat, the tears threatening to start welling at any moment. She shook her head furiously, and Callie was quick to back off and retreated back out of sight.

Arizona, on the other hand, was somewhat baffled at the quick 180. "Lexie," she said, sitting down on Callie's rolling stool and sliding closer to her. "Hey, Lex, lemme help you."

"I can't," she gritted out, ignoring Arizona entirely as she talked mostly to herself. "I can't do this."

"Lexie," Arizona chided, tilting her head to the side and giving her a look. "You aren't allowed to say that."

"Yeah, well, here I am, saying it."

One of Arizona's eyebrows lifted at the acidic tone in Lexie's voice. "Are you having a day?"

"What gave you that indication?" Lexie mumbled, still trying to break free of her prosthetic.

Both of Arizona's eyes widened, her hand reaching out and resting over top of Lexie's struggling ones. "Whoa, hey, _talk to me._ What's going on?"

"Just...help me get this fucking thing...off!" Arizona swatted both of her hands away as her voice cracked, helping her whether she wanted the assistance or not before she ended up breaking the thing. She was panting, as though she'd forgotten to breathe in the process, both of her hands falling in her lap and hunched over as she tried to calm herself down.

"What's the matter with you?" Arizona asked, propping the prosthetic up on the opposite side of the bed and turning her attention right back to Lexie. "Come on, Grey. Don't hide behind the tears, you know what you wanna say. So say it."

"I don't want to do this!" she cried out, voice strangled as it began to crack and the tears building in her throat weighed down. "This is all a waste of my time, walking around on this goddamn metal second chance acting like I'm getting my life back. I keep pretending I am and the rug keeps ripping from under my ass the minute I get out of here saying I'm not, and I just—I can't fucking do this anymore!"

"What are you talking about?" This time, Arizona's voice was gentler, leaning in closer to Lexie.

"I...I lost more than just my leg in my accident," she said slowly, the words slipping off her tongue carefully. "I lost _somebody_. I lost my—I lost everything, Arizona." She tilted her head back as though it would stifle the tears and keep them in her eyelids long enough, to no avail of course. "People died, and I lost my leg. And it keeps haunting me, the fact I lost someone I cared about more than anything, and I can't fucking sleep anymore without waking up screaming or crying or _both_ and I just..." Lexie sighed, a few tears escaping her. "God, I sound like a raging lunatic. I'm making no sense to you, am I?

Arizona was quiet for a moment, more than likely processing the information. This wasn't supposed to be a session with Dr. Wyatt, Lexie spilling out all of her thoughts and emotions and feelings like the sink running over when the faucet wouldn't shut off, but it had happened and neither of them could ignore all the water on the floor. Both of her hands reached for Lexie's, gripping onto them tightly. "Look at me, Grey." Lexie's head remained cast downwards, and Arizona was having none of it. "Lexie, look at me."

Slowly and cautiously, Lexie tilted her chin up, tear-blurred eyes looking at Arizona. "You lost somebody. You're still grieving. I get that. I told you day number one, I get you, and that what you needed was for someone to get you. I do. You don't have to make any kind of sense to me."

A sharp exhale of breath was released from Lexie's gritted teeth. "I'm just so...angry..." she began, hands balling into fists inside Arizona's hold on them. "How do I get my life back, like you said, when I had my whole life taken from me by some _stupid_ way of the universe continuing to laugh in my face?"

"You...you figure it out," Arizona said after a moment of contemplation. "You go back to the drawing board, erase it, and start over. Just because I said you get back to your life doesn't mean you're going to go back exactly how it was. Everything's going to be different now, no matter what. You're going to have people follow you around with wheelchairs and get handicapped license plates and probably have the phone number of a multitude of therapists in your phone until you've got more wrinkles than you do hairs on your head. Life isn't supposed to be the same, and if that's what you got from me when I said that two weeks ago, then I'm _sorry_ I made you think that. But your life isn't over, Lexie Grey. You've got the whole damn world ahead of you."

"And if I don't want the world?"

Arizona rolled her eyes. "You're such a neurology person," she mocked, reminiscent of Lexie's comment earlier as she squeezed Lexie's hands. "You take what you want. And I know you want this. I know you want it, because I see it in your eyes every single time you stand up. You want this? Take it for yourself and don't let your nightmares or your really unconventional sister or hell, even the stupid universe tell you you can't have it." A smile curved over Arizona's lips gently.

"You're not supposed to be this nice to me when I'm a bitch to you," Lexie sighed after a moment of nothing but staring at Arizona in a revering silence, wiping underneath her eyes. Arizona, the one person she had an ally in in this big world that always seemed out to get her, reminding her it was okay to command attention and demand something for her own gain every now and again. Arizona, a breath of fresh air when she was still breathing in primarily smoke.

One of Arizona's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, her hands never loosening their wrap on Lexie's. "I'm a good man in a storm. This is just another one of those storms."

 **. . .**

"Lexie?" A pause. "Lex. _Lexie_. Oh, for the love of god, Lexie, get up!"

If being startled awake by Meredith was going to be a new routine of any kind, Lexie was going to go insane.

"Jesus, where's the fire?" Lexie muttered under her breath, the upper half of her body twisting over in the direction of Meredith's voice. Meredith's hands had left her body and relieved her of the shaking, Lexie curling up tighter underneath all of her blankets as she blinked a few times and trying to adjust. She rubbed at her eyes, yawn ripping through her. Meredith was still somewhat blurry in her vision as she slowly but surely woke up, but she could clearly make out the outline of her sister hunched over in her closet rummaging around for something.

Something suddenly hit her square in the chest, startling her the rest of the way awake. Lexie pulled herself up against the mountain of pillows, glancing down to see what it was exactly that Meredith had thrown at her. Sitting on the covers was a bra, a pair of leggings and a t-shirt. "Why are you throwing my clothes at me?" she moaned, her body slouching back down under the comforter. "It's Saturday, we don't have to be anywhere today. PT was yesterday." She knew that much for certain; it was impossible to forget that mentally draining of a day had happened.

Meredith was a woman on a mission, and she wasn't putting up with or even remotely acknowledging Lexie's protests. "Come on, get up, get dressed, let's move!"

"Why?" Lexie asked again, a hand knotting in her scalp as she pushed her bangs and some of the free-falling hair back out of her face. Meredith didn't even bother to glance back over her shoulder as she slung Lexie's sock drawer open.

"You've got visitors."

* * *

 **Before I leave you, just wanted to remind all of you to please please _please_ leave a review on your way out; they make writing this story even more worthwhile and I love hearing what you all have to say, your voices matter! Who do you think Lexie's visitors are? How are you enjoying the Lexie/Arizona dynamic? Let me know! I'm biased, but this is one of my favorite stories I've ever written and I like knowing what you think. Also, Lexie Grey and Mark Sloan deserved way more than what the Grey's writers are currently giving them, having Meredith get on a plane to make out with a guy only for it to supposedly go down? Where's the justice for my kids? xo  
**


	11. Chapter Ten

**...well, it's been a hot minute. I have to thank you all for your endless support for this story; even though I had to take a small break away from writing in order to finish out the end of this semester, you kept reviewing and reading and it means the world to me. I'm nowhere close to done with this story, rest assured. It means the absolute world to me, and the fact you all are choosing to embark on this journey with me is a gratitude I can't put into words. Enough of sappy Em. I don't think anyone got our guests right, so I won't keep you waiting any longer to find out. Remember, reviews make my world keep on a' turning, this is a fanfiction, and I regrettably (or maybe not so much) own nothing.**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

In her head, Lexie was counting down the list of people that could possibly be in Meredith's living room 'visiting' her. Meredith, Derek, and Zola did not count, since they lived there. Mark was...in his current predicament. Arizona was a possibility, although her working at the hospital eliminated her since she would either be on call or off work and asleep. Callie had no reason to make a house call, neither did Dr. Wyatt. Mark's mother had looked at Lexie once at his funeral and never bothered looking back, so she wasn't even a remote possibility. Briefly, her mind flashed forward to her father or Molly, but the chances it was either of them waiting for her in the other room were slim to none. Meredith wouldn't have even let them in the door to begin with.

She pulled her shirt over her head, combed her fingers with her hair, and pushed the breaks down on her wheelchair, starting the maneuver into the hallway.

Voices were floating down the hall, quiet enough that Lexie couldn't tell who it was but soft enough that she could distinguish a gender. A female was speaking, and she knew it wasn't Meredith. Eyebrows furrowing together, Lexie pushed on. _Visitors_ , she thought almost bitterly, a dry laugh of an afterthought. _I'm not the best company to keep these days._

Lexie stopped once she'd made it to the doorway leading into the living room, ceasing movement if only to assess the scene in front of her and then process. Meredith had her back to Lexie, sitting on the farthest edge of the couch as she could manage with Zola in her lap, playing with her hair. Red hair was the first thing Lexie caught sight of after that, it flooding her system and leaving her throat bone dry. She tried to speak, she did, but the words refused to leave her mouth.

Not as though she had to say anything of course, she and April Kepner had always been on the same wavelength and by the time she was ready to talk, April had already lifted her head and noticed Lexie sitting there in the middle of the entryway.

"Lexie," April said, her name coming out of her mouth like a wave falling over the shore in a soft exhale. The person holding her hand immediately caught on, perking up a little and sitting up straighter on the couch. A soft smile—had Lexie not known any better, drenched in pity at that—spread over April's lips carefully. "Hi."

Words were still taking their sweet and precious time wedging from Lexie's throat, but they finally pushed their way out and into the silence that had entered the room. "Hey," she replied, the shock masking over the utter confusion at the sight of her best friend and her husband sitting on her couch. She had about a thousand other things floating through her brain that she wanted to translate into speech, but they just weren't working.

"Long time, no see, huh?" One of Jackson Avery's eyebrows quirked, and Lexie could see the impishness in the way he hinted at a smirk, glittering in his eyes.

"Yeah," Lexie sputtered after a moment, coming out in a broken laugh that could have easily been mistaken for a sob. "Yeah, no kidding."

Moving over the threshold, Lexie beelined straight for April and Jackson, both of whom had leaned forward and had their arms waiting to embrace her. April got to her first, pulling her in and nearly out of the seat of her wheelchair in a bone-crushing hug. Lexie's spare hand wrapped around Jackson as he joined in, the three of them a bundle of arms sitting there hugging. Lexie could have melted, and she felt as though she had, with the smell of April's shampoo and Jackson's cologne running through her bloodstream and feeling so at ease in their arms. The tears were beginning to spring to her eyes the longer and longer she hugged them.

It had been ages, it felt like, since she'd seen April and Jackson. The last time she'd properly seen them was before her accident. April had apparently been the one who headed Lexie's care right after her accident until they stabilized her enough to transport her to the closest medical facility in Europe, the very person who tried to save her leg. Jackson and April weren't finished with their time when Mark's funeral rolled around and couldn't come home to support Lexie through it; they'd called her a few times after to check in, but it had always been hard to hear them and even when she could, there wasn't much to say.

"Fuck," Lexie mumbled, burying her face into April's shoulder further as her eyes started to burn. " _Fuck_ , you can't just surprise me like this."

Jackson didn't bother suppressing his laugh at that one, the hug between the three of them only tightening. They stayed like that for quite some time, Lexie wasn't sure how long: all she knew was that she was finally at some peace there in their arms.

After what felt like hours, Lexie finally peeled herself away from the two of them, reaching up to wipe from underneath her eyes. Already she could see that April's mascara was beginning to clump from some of her own tears, Jackson's eyes red around the edges. They took one look at each other, in the state of their emotions, all quick to laugh it off.

"Does everyone like pizza?" Meredith asked in the midst of the silence, injecting herself into the conversation where she saw the chance. Lexie glanced over; it was painfully obvious that her sister felt out of place and was quite literally using Zola as her crutch.

"Yeah, we all like pizza," Lexie answered. Meredith nodded, hoisting Zola up onto her hip and rising from her seat.

"Pizza it is then. C'mon, Zozo. Let's go order us a pizza."

Both of Jackson's eyebrows lifted as Meredith disappeared into the kitchen. "So _that's_ the evil bitch of a sister that thought you were lying about being related to her?"

"Doesn't seem like an evil bitch to me," April noted. "She's offering to feed us pizza."

Lexie shrugged, the manner somewhat half-hearted. "Meredith's not the same person I met back when I was eighteen. I mean, she still can't cook to save her life, but she's not Molly. That's all that really matters."

The dark look that flashed over April's face seemed unnatural; someone as bright and epitomized sunshine as she was looked like an entirely different person with that sort of anger flooding her system. It came as quickly as it went, April straightening out her shoulders as she folded her hands in her lap. "How have things been?" she asked softly. "It's been awhile."

That was saying the least. Lexie's fingers found the ends of her hair, absentmindedly fiddling with them as she tried to find the words in her throat. With April and Jackson, it was never a matter of finding the right thing to say. "Um," she began, already feeling some of the pressure from her emotions beginning to weigh heavily on her voice. "They've been alright, I guess."

April and Jackson were patient, enough to have been deemed saints as Lexie continued cautiously feeling her way through vocalizing the last five months. "I've almost graduated out of this wheelchair in PT. I think my next visit? Yeah, that's when I think I'm getting upgraded to the prosthetic with crutches." Her eyes darted around the room in a sloppy rectangle. "I, um, I go to other therapy too. Shrink-type stuff, where you talk about your feelings and all that."

"How's that going for you?" Jackson asked, one of his eyebrows lifting.

Lexie's lips pursed. "Okay," she replied. "I was kind of a hard ass about it in the beginning—"

"Lexie Grey, a hard ass?" Jackson interrupted, glancing over at April as he feigned shock. "I don't believe that, not one bit."

"Oh, shut up," Lexie laughed, rolling her eyes. "I didn't want to be there. Meredith and Derek sat me down with the whole come to Jesus meeting and said I was going, I didn't have much of a choice. I went for over a month before I even started _talking._ "

"What'd you do while you were there, then?" April asked.

"Sat there. Stared at the wall. It's become one of my official pastimes," Lexie informed her dryly. "There's not a whole lot you can do when you're physically forbidden from doing much of anything and the whole bundle of fun your PTSD brings tells you even if you could, you're not up to doing shit anyways."

Both April and Jackson were quiet; just because they were probably two of the only people on the planet who could remotely understand where she was coming from didn't mean there was one hundred percent alignment. They still looked at her with an ounce of sorrow in their eyes, perhaps for different reasons than most people, but the looks all mirrored one another. "What got you talking then, hard ass?" Jackson finally piped up, the teasing edge remaining in his voice.

Almost instantly, Lexie's head snapped down, eyes focused on her knees. "Mark," she said after another pause of silence.

Normally, when Mark's name was brought up it was as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. With April and Jackson, the air in the room seemed to have more weight to it than usual, they could _feel_ it pushing down on them. They were the ones who'd also known him, who were able to understand the devastating capacity of Lexie's loss because they'd lost him, too. "I just...you know," Lexie stammered, reaching up and scratching behind her neck. "I got into a fight with Meredith about it and it triggered something and before I couldn't talk about him but now it's like...all I want is to talk about him? I don't know. He's living in my head a lot these days."

Unfolding her hands from her lap, April reached out to grab one of Lexie's hands. She placed it in between both of hers, squeezing it tightly. "Hey," she said softly, coaxing Lexie to raise her eyes. "No one says that's a bad thing. He was the love of your life, Lex, it's okay to miss him."

"The dreams have gotten worse," Lexie admitted. "Well, nightmares, I suppose, I don't really know what to call them—I just see him there every time I fall asleep. Sometimes it's good, sometimes it's bad. All hurts the same."

April was slowly rubbing circles on the top of Lexie's hand, nodding. "It's a lot," Lexie said, exhaling. "Dr. Wyatt wants for me to start sifting through all these feelings and accepting—" A sob ripped straight through her the minute she verbalized it, her lips shutting almost instantly.

"Hey, no," Jackson cut in. "You get to go at your own pace, don't let anybody tell you otherwise. Look at us, okay? We dropped everything and went off to the goddamn Middle East when we lost Samuel because we wanted to escape our lives and not have to deal with it. Hell, we're still not over it, we still don't want to deal with it. There's no reason in rushing it. Take. Your. _Time."_

Lexie nodded, returning the tight grip onto April's hands. "Everyone's decided we've reached the point now where it's time for me to get better, they want me to get better, and I _feel_ like I'm getting better, but I'm scared of what happens after," she whispered. April's eyebrows furrowed, prompting a further explanation. "If I get to that point, the point where I'm better, it means I'm really going to have to let go, and I'm just not...ready."

Visibly, Jackson winced. She could see his eyes begin to shine a little more when she looked up, he probably hadn't expected to come over here and cry as much as he was turning out to do. "Grey, c'mere," he said, motioning for her to come closer and pulling her into another hug. "I told you, take your damn time. Whoever's putting it in your head that just because you get better means you have to get rid of him and let go needs to stop. That's not true. And if I have to beat it into your head, I will. I'll beat it into their heads too."

As she pulled away from the hug, nodding, April shook her head. "Okay, no more of...whatever this is. Progress, right? You're making progress, that's all that matters, no matter what you think the end of the tunnel holds. You should celebrate that, Lex, you've been through hell and back and you _deserve_ the recovery. You deserve to get to be proud of that."

Lexie tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. "Thanks, Kepner," she muttered. "All I seem to know how to do these days is...I don't know. Wallow, I guess. Getting better isn't all they've cracked it up to be."

April and Jackson both exchanged a look, one that Lexie nearly almost missed as she straightened out her back and sat up a little taller in her seat. "No more about me," she said, her voice already lighter than before and a smile creeping back over her face. "I'm tired of hearing and talking about me, what's up with you two? Tell me _everything_. When did you guys get home?"

"We got back a few weeks ago, it's been a lot of re-adjusting to the timezone and to Louisiana. It's not exactly Iraq," Jackson answered.

April, however, was already on an entirely different conversation and eager to move forward. "Listen, Lexie, there's something Jackson and I want to talk to you about—"

As if on a damn cue, Meredith poked her head through the doorway of the kitchen and cleared her throat to interrupt. "Anybody thirsty?" she asked. A small pause followed, to which she tacked on, "We have beer."

The three of them all glanced at one another quickly, Jackson offering his answer first. "Um, yeah, that's fine; I'll take a beer." April nodded in agreement, and Meredith glanced over at Lexie.

"Surprise me," she responded, and with that, Meredith's head vanished back inside the kitchen.

"What's that about?" Jackson asked after she'd disappeared and left them alone once again.

Lexie shrugged. "I think she's just trying to be a good hostess. I think. We don't usually have people over now that the stray house has disbanded."

"The _stray_ house?"

"My sister and Derek apparently have a thing for taking in the strays with nowhere to live. Or, at least, this place was cheaper and a hell of a lot more fun than where they lived. From what I've heard, this house used to be filled with people that they worked with and were friends with. I got them all chased off after my incident. Not the most interesting story in my repertoire."

"That's...something," April replied. "Anyways, you wanted to know about what was up with us?"

"Yes!" Lexie exclaimed. "Yes, please, tell me everything. I'm so ready to hear about someone else's life for once instead of my _own_. I never really realized how boring I was until now."

"Just now?" Jackson retorted, smirking.

"Wow, forgot how much I hated you up until now, too," Lexie ribbed, her voice dry despite the newfound twinkle in her eye. She'd missed being able to poke fun with someone, to taunt someone and not have them constantly worrying about sparing her feelings. It was why she liked Arizona, it was why she loved being back within the presence of Jackson and April.

Lexie turned back to April, prompting for her to continue. "Jackson and I are thinking about going back to work in the next few months? It's nothing set in stone yet, but we're entertaining a few different ideas."

"That's awesome! Really," Lexie gushed. "That's so great. Anywhere will be lucky to have you guys on board."

"Well that's _kind_ of what we wanted to talk to you about," April said slowly.

"Talk to me?" Lexie repeated, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. "About you guys going back to work?"

The sound of footsteps and from the corner of their eye, Meredith's re-entrance into the room was enough to tear them away from the conversation yet again for a slight moment. She handed April and Jackson their beers and Lexie a Diet Coke, since Meredith didn't like the thought of her sister mixing her medications with alcohol and didn't necessarily want to bring work home with her. Zola was no longer attached to her side, left in the kitchen with Derek as he milled around doing god only knew what. She didn't have much time to sit down and get adjusted before there was a knock on the door. "Looks like the pizza's here," she announced, smiling at them.

"Well that was fast," Jackson muttered.

"Back to what we were talking about," April resumed, ignoring her husband's commentary. "Jackson and I are thinking about going back to work in the next few months, but we're not going back to the hospital. After everything overseas, especially with you and Mark, we've had enough of our adrenaline fill. It's not going to be the same in a hospital, and we know that, and if we..." April paused. "If we ever want to try for kids again, we're just not sure the both of us having such demanding schedules is what's best anymore. We want something a little more lowkey."

"Okay," Lexie said cautiously, eyes flickering over to where Meredith was at the door, trying to dig through Derek's wallet for another bill since the pizza boy had unfortunately declined her paying with a card. "So you want to get out of medicine, do something different, that's still great—"

"Oh no, we're staying in the medical field. Pay's too nice," Jackson corrected, and April swiftly delivered a blow to his ribs with her elbow. " _Damn,_ woman."

"We want to stay in medicine, we just want to do it independently. We're thinking about starting a practice down in New Orleans, preferably a group practice. It's just what seemed like the best idea for us."

Lexie nodded slowly, trying to let it process. "Alright...Jackson, yes, I can see in a practice, plastics and all, but what about you, April? No offense, but I don't know very many people who take their emergency patients to the private practice down the street."

"I wouldn't be doing trauma," April replied. "I'd deal with most of the business related stuff, since that was what I grew up doing with my dad. My Board certificate lets me do sports medicine work, so I'd do something with that, maybe? Like I said, we're still trying to nail down the details, entertaining different ideas."

"So where exactly do I come into all of this?"

"We want you working _with_ us, Grey," Jackson said. "We know we don't want to go into it with just the two of us, we want a few more people on board. You were both of our first choice. We want you as one of our partners."

"Guys..." Lexie started, her voice hesitant.

April was quick to pick up where Jackson had left off. "I know, you haven't done anything in awhile, and we aren't asking you to make a decision right away or anything. Like Jackson said, take all the time you need, even with this. You're damn good in neurology—"

"Neuro _surgery_ ," Lexie corrected, but April didn't seem to care.

"Lexie, you work with brains. You love them, you know everything there is to know about them, it's the same difference. You're one of the best there is, and even though work is probably the last thing on your mind, we still wanted to go ahead and extend the offer to you. It's something new, something different, and we could all use a little bit of that."

Meredith shut the door, balancing three boxes of pizza on one hand as she waltzed towards the kitchen. "Food's here, guys, we'll eat in the kitchen!" she told the three of them over her shoulder, crossing over the threshold. They slowly all got to moving, Lexie moving her chair back so Jackson and April both had the room to stand up.

"So, what, would you want me to move down to New Orleans if I said yes?"

"Essentially, yeah," April replied. "We have a place, you'd be more than welcome to stay there with us."

"Stray house two-point-oh, then," Lexie pointed out dryly, and April smiled.

"You'd be _our_ stray," she laughed. "Seriously though, Lexie. We want you as a part of our fresh start if you want in on it, too."

As they made their way towards the kitchen, following the smell of pizza, Lexie's mind was racing more than it had in quite some time. A new, fresh start, far away from Seattle, with Jackson and April. She couldn't remember the last time she'd thought about the brain or the nervous system in a medical tense; the world of medicine had been in another galaxy from where she was, a planet she'd long since left and seemingly forgotten all about in the midst of recovery. And yet, now that they'd reminded her, it was like someone had plugged a missing part of Lexie back into the wall, coming back to life again inside of her. The inkling of the thought of being with them in New Orleans, doing something new—hell, just doing something at all; it was, dare she think it, _exciting_.

Was this what life hitting resume felt like?

* * *

 **This took forever, what with all the headaches I have magically come down with, but it's done and it's out and I'm back in a groove! Jackson and April, another one of my favorite Grey's couples; you really didn't think they were going to just play some minor role in this story, did you? Everyone introduced here is important, I promise. Like I said above, pretty pretty please leave a review on your way out and let me know what you thought, all your comments and thoughts and feels are welcomed! Next chapter brings us a fun flashback and the clash of the Stubborn. Should be a fun one, and I'll see you all _much_ sooner for it. xo**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**I really don't think you guys know just how much you warm my heart when I see all of your reviews, truly. I was so nervous that I'd see silence from that update because it's happened in the past when I've had to take a minute off from writing but you, my lovely lovely readers, shatter every preconceived notion I may have and leave me in awe every time. I love you, I love you, I love you. I do it for you as much as I do it for myself, maybe even more so. As always, I don't own a damn thing, this is fanfiction, Mark Sloan would want for you to review on your way out, and enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

"They want you to do _what_?"

Expecting Meredith to have a normal reaction to Jackson and April's proposition was a bit of a long shot, Lexie knew that. And she'd tried her best to diffuse the bomb by prefacing it with the slew of comments that ran along the vein of it all being tentative and just a mere suggestion for the time being. Hell, Lexie had even gone so far as to wait until Meredith was off-guard, busy making lunch for Zola when she mentioned it. The minute the words came out of her mouth though, Meredith nearly chopped her pinky finger off.

In her defense, there was a solid reason she'd waited nearly twenty four hours in bringing it up: she didn't want to mention it when Jackson and April were in close enough proximity for Meredith to tear a hole in them. Lexie could handle her sister's unpredictability, but she wasn't willing to unleash her on her unsuspecting, undeserving friends.

Although it might not have been the greatest idea to mention it now, seeing as how Meredith had all too cheerfully invited Jackson and April back over for dinner later on in the week.

"Mer, it's just talk right now. I'm not leaving tomorrow."

Meredith was staring at Lexie like she had three heads, setting her knife down on the counter flat. "But you're considering it?" she asked, lifting both of her eyebrows in question.

Lexie could only shrug in nonchalance, moving her wheelchair up closer to the edge of the counter. "Maybe?" There was enough hope in the edge of Lexie's voice it could have raised Mark back from the dead, a twisted smile on her face. She'd stayed up all night thinking about the possibilities, for once since she'd gotten home after everything feeling a happiness return inside of her, a happiness that had seemed to go on an extended vacation once she left the desert. Happiness that came with the idea of getting some of her life back. "It's not the _worst_ idea ever."

"No," Meredith sighed complacently. "It's not the worst idea I've ever heard, but I'm just not sure it's the right one for you right now."

"I told you, it's not some overnight thing," Lexie reassured her, despite the beginnings of irritation in her voice starting to shine through. It was evident Meredith was picking and choosing her words carefully, trying not to set her off as though she was bargaining with a child. "There's still a lot the two of them have to do, it's going to be awhile. It doesn't hurt to think about it, though. Entertain the idea. I can't mull around your house watching reruns and infomercials forever."

"If you think going back to work is something you're interested in doing, Derek and I can put in a good word for you down at the hospital—"

"It's not..." Lexie had to swallow what she was sure was going to be a scathing fire-off, taking a deep breath before resuming. "It's not just going back to work, Mer. It's being with Jackson and April, being somewhere different. _Doing_ something different."

"I get that, Lexie," Meredith replied, her voice eerily gentle as she picked back up her knife to go back to cutting her sandwich in half. "I do, I really do. Sometimes it's necessary to get a change of scenery."

Lexie frowned at the hesitating cliff her sister's statement stopped at. "But you don't support me wanting to do this."

"Support's a strong word, Lexie."

"But you don't want me to do this. You think...you just don't want me running off to New Orleans. Out of your sight."

Meredith sighed, glancing up at Lexie. "I'm not a dictator, Lexie, I'm not shackling you to the walls and refusing to let you leave—"

"I don't _get_ it, Meredith," she interrupted, hand coming down on the counter. "You, of all people, want me to get to a certain fixed point of recovery where I'm as good as good as new gets, thinking that every little thing that, so far, hasn't been it, is the last straw before we come out on the other side of the tunnel. And now that we're actually getting there, that there's something that I'm happy and excited about for once, you want to start walking backwards back through the dark?" Lexie shook her head in disbelief, watching as Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Lexie, I'm not in the mood to fight about this right now," she said, dropping the knife into the sink.

"Of course you aren't," Lexie mumbled underneath her breath. "You don't like doing anything that requires for you to perhaps admit you aren't right." When she caught Meredith looking at her, she shrugged, sitting up a little straighter and her voice dripping the sarcasm. "What, am I wrong? Do you get it after all?"

"No, you're right," Meredith agreed. "I don't."

Lexie watched as her sister stalked around the opposite side of the counter, plate in hand and walking towards the table where Zola's high chair was stationed. Her eyes flickered up to the ceiling, exhaling her frustrations out. Of course this wasn't going to go easy. When had anything ever?

 **. . .**

The sound of the doorbell echoing out through the house was immediately followed by Meredith shouting, "It's unlocked!"

She and Derek were on high alert, moving throughout the kitchen to make sure that nothing overcooked or worse, caught fire. Why Derek had decided on Italian for dinner with the Averys was still uncertain, because it wasn't by any means the easiest thing to prepare. In fact, the smart idea if they'd wanted to do anything other than grilling would have been to get take out, but once Derek set his mind to something it was hard to get him to change his mind.

Lexie wasn't too thrilled about the prospects of Italian food for dinner, but she figured she wasn't going to push Meredith's buttons any more than necessary. There were only so many petty, sisterly arguments that could be squeezed into the week, and Lexie knew how to pick and choose her battles with her older sister by now. Meredith had her best interests at heart, like always, but the lines always seemed to blur when it started affecting Meredith's grand plan. She liked control, simple as that.

Jackson and April came strolling in, April carrying her coat and Jackson carrying a glass casserole dish. They peeked into the living room where Lexie was sitting, Zola sitting in her lap and playing with a piece of Lexie's hair, smiling once they saw her. "You guys didn't have to bring anything," Lexie pointed out.

"April's new and current hobby is baking," Jackson informed her as he walked past in the direction of the kitchen. "It's just a coincidence that she made a German chocolate cake right before we came; I'm trying to get rid of the baked goods we have piling up in the hotel room before we fly back out."

"Baking, huh?" Lexie asked April as she sat down next to her on the couch. "I didn't take you for a baker."

"I like being productive, and it was that or join a gym. Baking seemed like the better alternative, I did enough physical exertion overseas to last me a lifetime," April said matter-of-factly. Her face lit up as she caught Zola's attention, arms reaching out for her. "You have the most adorable niece in the entire world."

The two of them sat there, doting over Zola (which certainly wasn't the hardest thing in the world to do) up until Jackson reappeared in the doorway, motioning for them to come into the kitchen.

April lifted Zola up as she stood, unwilling to hand her back over to Lexie. "What, no dining room?"

Lexie snorted. "Please, that'd require Meredith to do more than just wipe down the table. I'll be surprised if we eat on anything other than plastic plates."

"I like plastic plates. They're practical," April protested.

"You've never seen Meredith's plastic plates; she inherited them from her mother."

Things smelled good floating from the kitchen, a sign of promise. Jackson was already fixing himself a plate at the little makeshift buffet Meredith and Derek had stretched out over the counter, even though there wasn't much to pick and choose from. Derek's lasagna, straight from the oven; a giant bowl of salad fixings which had to be Meredith's only contribution, garlic bread someone had thrown in the oven, April's cake. April handed Zola off to Meredith, falling behind Lexie and assisting in fixing her plate.

Accepting help wasn't her favorite thing, but when it came from April, it didn't feel much like accepting help. April didn't make it an option, she just did it.

Lexie took her place at the table, in between April and where Zola's high chair stayed stationed. It was conveniently right across from where Meredith had set up her place, Lexie internally wincing. The last thing she wanted was a fight, especially around her friends.

Everything began calmly, even if Lexie could taste the hints of tension floating in the air as everyone got settled down and ready to eat. April asked if she could lead everyone in prayer before eating, Lexie and Jackson both almost instantly joining hands with her from being so used to the routine that came with April. She caught a glimpse of puzzlement on Meredith's face at the suggestion, but Derek smiled and held out his hand to his wife, coaxing her along.

"Dear heavenly father," April began. "We thank you for allowing us to gather tonight, both old friends and new, to enjoy good food and one another's company. We ask that you bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies, so that we may be able to do Your will. In your Heavenly name, amen." A dull chorus of 'amen' followed after.

Most of the conversation that flowed over the scrape of forks over Meredith's atrocious plastic plates took place between Derek and Jackson; they'd of course hit it off instantly and had plenty to talk about. April and Lexie had their own quiet conversations going in between bites, Meredith sometimes joining in with the men and the other times talking to Zola in trying to get her to eat. Occasionally, the three women would all look at Zola and exchange a few words, but not much more than that. Lexie could see it in Meredith's eyes whenever she looked over at April, that the question was dying to leap right off the edge of her tongue.

They'd almost made it to dessert, too. "So, what are you and April doing back home in Louisiana?" Derek asked Jackson in between swallows of beer.

Jackson glanced over at April, who met his eyes with a mirror sort of expression on her face, slightly widened eyes. "Well, we haven't been home much since getting back and coming out here, but we're thinking about starting up a practice once we do?"

Derek was enlightened by this news, meanwhile Meredith was doing her best to turn her back and isolate herself from the conversation as she fed Zola. "Really?" he prodded. "That's incredible. Group practice, I assume?"

"Yep," Jackson confirmed, eyes flitting past April onto Lexie for only a mere second. "We're trying to talk your sister in law into joining us down there. She's the best."

Visibly, Meredith stiffened, but she kept feeding Zola silently. Lexie could feel her heartbeat start to quicken, color flushing in her face the more and more the tension grew in the atmosphere around her that only she was seeming to pick up on.

"I didn't know Lexie was entertaining the idea of going back to work," Derek said, genuine surprise riddling his face as he looked to Lexie for some sort of confirmation. She could barely force her shoulders to assume into the position of a shrug before Meredith started talking under her breath.

"Yeah, none of us did." Almost instantly, Lexie's eyes shot over to Meredith in an angry flash, screaming at her to stop now. She didn't seem to notice, whether purely incident or entirely on purpose.

"I think it's a good idea," April cautiously threw into the mix. "We've missed working with her, it doesn't feel right going back into it without her there with us. We got too comfortable overseas having Lexie around. Besides, there's nothing like wanting or needing a change of scenery and a fresh start." Almost verbatim words from Lexie and Meredith's conversation was just the push needed for Meredith to yank down on the trigger.

"I'm sorry; you might be a doctor but you don't know what my sister needs," Meredith said coolly, setting her fork down.

"The only person who knows what Lexie wants or needs is Lexie," Lexie interrupted, voice wavering as she tried to hold her anger at bay. Meredith could make her remarks all she wanted, Lexie had learned how to carry their weight and nurse the wounds a long time ago when she was eighteen and on her way to Harvard. She wasn't, however, going to let Meredith start throwing her hostility around on people who sure as hell didn't deserve it. Lexie refused to let her get away with it scot-free. "Certainly not Meredith."

"And again, I'm not some dictator holding you here against your will—"

"No, you just want to keep me in your sights so you can make sure I'm still following the Grey Method of recovery post-trauma. God forbid we do anything other than your way."

"I'm just trying to keep your best interests in mind, to look out for you!" Meredith snapped. That elicited a scoff from Lexie.

"My best interests?" Lexie pushed her chair back from the table, glaring at her sister. "Get real, Meredith."

She didn't bother to wait on anyone else to throw their two cents into the mix, to hear Derek scold Meredith, to hear April's faltered plea at asking Lexie to stay. She wheeled herself out of the kitchen, down the hall in a desperate need for some fresh air, to catch her breath after feeling like she'd just come up from underwater and her lungs were burning.

Lexie reached the end of the hall, flinging the door open to the garage and wheeling herself outside. She slammed her fist down on the garage door, a moan eliciting as it began to raise. Already, Lexie could feel the cool breeze blowing in as she maneuvered herself past Derek's parked car. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a softball, one of her own, sitting in a small tub with the rest of Zola's outdoor toys. She leaned down and grabbed it, squeezing it tightly as though it was going to rid her of her agitation.

Where did Meredith get off on dragging her issues with what Lexie wanted to do into a perfectly peaceful dinner? Hell, it was always about Meredith; everything had to be about Meredith even when it wasn't. She wasn't sure if it had to do with some deep-seated issues from her childhood, but the more Lexie lived in the house and saw it come to light more and more, she was beginning to think perhaps that was the case. She tossed the ball up into the air, catching it, tossing it up, catching it, a cycle going up and down with her thoughts.

Toss.

 _Meredith's my sister. She's trying to look out for me the only way she knows how, even if it is a bust-up job._

Catch.

 _She's not my keeper. She doesn't get to tell me what is and isn't good for me._

Toss.

 _We can't all be like Meredith, shoving down our feelings and moving on even if we tape the boxes back half-ass. It might work for her, but it doesn't work on all of us. Some of us can't call living in a rut recovery._

Catch.

The sound of the door back into the house opened after some time had passed, closing right after and light footsteps making their way towards where Lexie had stationed herself at the mouth of the garage. "Mind if I sit?" April asked quietly.

Lexie didn't bother to look in her direction as she nodded, still tossing the softball up in the air at an absentminded rhythm. April grabbed one of the outdoor folding chairs that Derek and Meredith stored for the rare, rare occasions they went camping, setting it up right next to Lexie's wheelchair. She fell back into the chair with a resounding _whoosh_ as the fabric of the seat bottomed out underneath her, crossing her legs.

"It's a nice night," April noted.

"It's humid."

"Well, that's what happens when you live in the city notorious for its rainfall."

April glanced over in Lexie's direction, a disheartened look settling over her features. "I'm sorry if I said something that I shouldn't have. You know I don't want to put you in any kind of uncomfortable position."

Lexie shook her head, throwing the softball straight up in the air before catching it neatly in both hands. "You saying something didn't make things worse. I mean, it didn't make them any better, but it was already fucked from the get-go." She pushed a sharp sigh from between her lips. "I'm the one who should be apologizing, for my sister. Meredith just likes to do everything Meredith's way, and when we all steer away from Meredith's way, she runs us the fuck over."

From the corner of her eye, she could see April hold out both of her hands, a silent gesture for Lexie to throw her the ball. She removed the brakes on her chair, rotating a little bit before tossing it at April gently.

"You think she's being overprotective, overbearing mother hen because she didn't before?" April asked, catching the ball with a little recoil after Lexie's throw. She wasn't entirely uncoordinated, but certainly didn't have the same sort of finesse Lexie did.

"Before? Before what?"

"Before you left." April carefully threw the ball back at Lexie, Lexie catching it with ease. "You two didn't have the best relationship even when you did come overseas. I don't know, it just...seeing the way Meredith acts around you reminds me how people acted with me after Samuel's death. Like they didn't try hard enough to care when he was still alive, so they were doubling down extra time, making _sure_ they knew I cared now that he was gone. Over-compensating because you have no idea where to really begin."

Lexie rolled the ball around between her hands, contemplating April's point. After a moment, she definitively shook her head. "Meredith isn't an over-compensating type of person. Less is more in her mind. Or...just less."

She shrugged before throwing the ball back to April. "She's trying how she knows," April pointed out. "Not the greatest reassurance in the world, but at least she's actively trying. It could be a lot worse." As she caught the ball, she held it for a moment, running her finger over the laces. "Have you talked to your dad or Molly any since you got home?" she asked after the pause of silence.

The remaining color in Lexie's cheeks seemed to peacefully drain out. "No," she replied swiftly, her voice soft. "I don't even know if they know I'm back in the States." She gestured for April to return the ball. "There's not really much to talk to them about anyways. ' _Hi, I'm at Meredith's house with an amputated leg and a fiancé whose funeral you missed out on, how's the last four years been for you?'_ "

Silence fell between them, passing the ball back and forth between one another a couple of times. "You know," Lexie pointed out dryly after a moment. "If you look at it, I think I'm just destined to fail when it comes to the concept of family."

April frowned. "No you aren't."

"April, my biological family sucks, my half-sister treats me with kid gloves ninety percent of the time, and I was widowed before I even got married." She shrugged, tossing the ball to April again. "I'm definitely _not_ winning."

"My baby was alive for eleven minutes before he died of osteogenesis imperfecta." April made a show of rolling the ball in between her hands before throwing it back. "None of us win. Family isn't a game."

Lexie gave her a pointed look, to which April countered with, "Not with real family. Real family doesn't keep score."

"Which is why you and Jackson are the closest things I feel like I have to 'real' family," Lexie muttered. "Are you guys trying again? I know you mentioned the other day about future kids in the picture, I didn't know..." April pursed both of her lips together, a twisted smile on her face as she lifted one of her hands in a questioning manner.

"I think Jackson wants to. I want to. We haven't really started trying again or anything, just because we're still trying to get settled back at home and get this up and going." She sighed, examining her fingernails to evade making any eye contact. "It's what we do, though. We keep piling all kinds of other stuff on top of a conversation we'll have to have eventually, but we just aren't ready for yet. You'd think after this much time we would be."

If she could have, she would have reached over and rested a reassuring hand on the arm of April's chair, even over her hand. Instead, Lexie just threw the ball back at her. "Your husband said it himself a few nights ago. Take all the damn time in the world, nothing wrong with it." She offered April a smile. "You can be the best mom in the world when you're ready to be."

"Were you and Mark thinking about kids?" April returned quietly.

That took Lexie a moment, head almost instantly snapping away from April and off to the side as she looked out into the driveway. She could only see so far down the hill until it merged into darkness and shadows with the rest of the world, things almost hiding there in plain sight thanks to the cover night brought. Her lower lip caught between her teeth for awhile as she stared, thought about it, tried not to think too _much_ about it. "I mean, I thought about kids. He loved kids. We never really did...you know. Talk about them."

Lexie could feel April's eyes burning into her side as she turned to look at her. She kept her eyes ahead, careful not to look over at April because she know what she would surely see: the pain. The heartache. The _pity_. April had known Mark and Lexie as Mark and Lexie, could familiarize with the gaping, cavernous hole that Mark had left in Lexie because it was similar in size to the one that she herself had when she lost her child. She hadn't expected to run away from loss only to be greeted by more of it when she and Jackson volunteered overseas, yet it was what she'd been handed.

"I like to think they're together," April finally said after a moment of silence, her voice watery. It didn't take a glance over at her to know there were tears welling up in her eyes. "Mark and Samuel. It's the only thing that gives me peace about what happened to the both of them; that they're together, taking care of each other, running around and playing baseball." A small laugh pushed through her chest. "Mark showing him how to hit the ball right, cheering him on as he runs. Letting Sammy beat him every single game."

She dared to look over at April, seeing that April had propped her arm up on the armrest, hand over her mouth as she looked out into the darkness blinking back her tears. "It's the only thing that gives me peace," she repeated, underneath her breath. "That they have somebody. That they aren't alone, even in..."

She didn't get the chance to finish her sentence. Lexie inched her chair a little closer to April's, reaching out for her hand. April almost immediately held it out for offer, wrapping her fingers around Lexie's hand and gripping tightly to it. She could see a tear slip down the slope of April's face as she blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the ones that would surely follow. The two of them sat there, not talking, but holding each other's hands and staring out into the night through the opened garage door.

* * *

 **Happy five year anniversary to Lexie Grey's death. Five years ago She Who Must Not Be Named did some of the greatest characters on that show the dirtiest she possibly could. And I'm never getting over it. Make sure you leave a review on your way out; I know we're spending quite a bit of time on Meredith and Lexie's rather...interesting relationship and the tension there, why Meredith just refuses to let her little sister live her life but their dynamic plays a very large part in this story and you'll find out why I'm doing this focus in particular later on down the road. Wink. Next chapter will be coming very very soon, especially since it'll serve as the second 'part' of this chapter? Had to break it up for my own sanity's reasons and to tide you guys over! Expect a very long, very fun flashback, all the way back to the desert. xo**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Hi guys! Thanks as always for your kind reviews, I love getting to hear all of your thoughts and it makes me smile to know you guys are in the long haul with me! Really quickly, I do want to address one of my guests about their review and clear some things up for them (I usually try to do this for everyone privately when they make points like these, but it's a little harder when you're on guest!): Meredith and Lexie's SL is far from over and is still developing. You have to understand that in this AU, as I've heavily hinted at, the two of them have always had a very strained relationship and even canonically they have very different and often opposing personalities. Their "sisterhood" is unconventional and they may not be your textbook, super close sisters but that doesn't undermine their role in the story; Mark and Meredith are what I'd say are the two central focus relationships. As for your surprise in April and Lexie confiding in one another, I've explicitly said that April and Lexie served overseas together for at the very minimum a year, and that bond formed a sisterhood between them. It's not much of a surprise at all if you've been keeping up, plus I also have a lot of trust in my readers to connect the dots on little things like that. The flashbacks are just as crucial as the present-day lines and they all tie together! That got long, so if you're still reading this, breathe a sigh of relief! Insert my usual disclaimers here, review review review, and enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

Breaks were far and few in between during the day, but nights tended to be a different story. Unless Hunt was working an assignment or they had their own responsibilities to take care of, the gap of time after dinner was empty and assigned to leisure. Leisure was a bit of a foreign word, since it implied relaxation somewhere in there and that was hard to come by when the desert demanded nothing short of remaining on standby. Nothing ever went as expected, anyways.

Lexie usually spent most of her leisure time sitting outside of the med tent or her barracks, taking whatever opportunity she had to spend time by herself and utilizing it wholeheartedly. Moments of peace were also relatively foreign, and whenever she found one, she tried to make the most of it. She usually just spent them staring up at the sky and making shapes in the stars that most certainly did not go with their already, preassigned constellations or observing things off in the distance that made up her surroundings. Observation, aside from neurosurgery, was her sharpest skill.

It had been a fairly easy day considering; they hadn't had any emergencies and most of it had all been standard routine. She, April and Jackson all ate lunch together, discussing their residency days and swapping college stories. It was _safe_ , which Lexie both liked and had begun to resent as time passed. She'd learned to crave the adrenaline rushes, the unpredictable and living on her toes.

The sun was still out, only just beginning to sink in the sky and she'd taken up with watching some of the units roll through on patrol as they passed her by. The beginnings of a breeze were starting to curl in the air, shifting the loose ends and the escaped hairs of her braid as it rolled by. It was peaceful out, aligning with how the rest of her day had gone. Lexie was trying to appreciate it.

"Mind if I join you, Sunshine?"

Glancing up at the sound of an all too familiar voice, the sun was blocked now by the silhouette of Mark Sloan. He was standing over her, grin draped over his lips, bat in one hand and a ball in the other.

Instinctively, she smiled at the sight of him. "Yeah, 'course," she said, sliding over to the right just a little to make room for him. He didn't make any moves to join her, Lexie looking up at him with her eyebrows wrinkled together and a hand over her eyes to see his face better in the glare of the sun's rays around him. "What?"

Mark threw the baseball up in the air, catching it neatly in the same hand. "Remember how I told you I was going to kick your ass in a game of baseball? The time has come for you to meet defeat, Grey."

"And who say's you're going to win?" Lexie asked after a small laugh slipped from her mouth, pulling herself off of the ground. "I played softball all the way through college. Baseball's just a little hobby for you."

"I'll have you know before I decided to join the army, I got scouted to play college ball." The smile on his face only grew, two rows of pearly white teeth exposed. "You aren't the only one who did time on the diamond."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the last time you were in a _real_ game of baseball was when Jesus was pitching the ball, but keep talking yourself up," Lexie taunted, winking as she took the lead in heading towards the empty clearing.

The weeks had turned into months, and whatever Lexie and Mark were had only solidified with time. Seeing one another was rare with their conflicting schedules; Mark was working within his own unit, his job and Lexie's creating near impossibility for them to cross paths. It didn't make complications though, if anything it made Lexie cherish every little moment they did get with one another that much more. She hadn't anticipated him by any means, but god, was she glad that he was there. He'd made her feel in ways she'd never known, ways she still couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Old jokes will get you nowhere," Mark replied in a sing-song voice, pointing the bat at her. Lexie simply made a face, strolling along backwards a few paces away in front of Mark.

They didn't stop until they were a decent way into the clearings away from the main camp, Mark stopping and holding out both the bat and the ball in Lexie's direction. "Lady gets to pick her poison," he offered.

Lexie took a step forward, grabbing the ball out of his hands with a devilish grin on her face. "I was pitcher," she informed him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"How adorable."

She had to resist leaning in and kissing him, even if it was a quick motion. It was, for the most part, frowned upon for any displays of public affection, especially since they hadn't gotten discovered with their relationship behind closed doors. They preferred to keep it that way, solely because they didn't want to think about what possible repercussions could come with it. It was simpler when it was just the two of them, even if there was nothing simple about it.

Grinning, Lexie skipped back a ways. "Thank you, I know," she replied.

Their form of baseball was relatively simple; Lexie would pitch him the ball, Mark would either hit it or miss it, and Lexie would attempt to catch it. They spent most of their time laughing at the other any time they could find any minuscule detail to make fun of. It was lighthearted, a breath of fresh air that Lexie only felt whenever he was around.

"How's your day been?" she asked, winding her arm back and pitching the ball Mark's way. He swung, neatly missing it by an inch. "Good up until I started kicking your ass in this game?"

Mark glanced up at her as he bent down to pick up the ball, making a face and feigning laughter. "Ha ha, Grey. Hilarious." He threw the ball back her way gently. "Day's been slow. A little too slow; we'll probably have some shit come rolling in at an ungodly hour that we have to take care of. Better now of course that I'm with my favorite girl," he added, throwing in a wink as he got back in position to hit.

Even in the heat, Lexie could distinguish the feel of a blush spraying onto her cheeks. "Flattery will get you nowhere," she reminded him weakly, the power of his words still holding that tight of an effect on her. She smiled, throwing the ball back his way. This time he hit it to her surprise, seeing as how he barely broke the eye contact between them.

That goddamn smirk still on his face.

He knew what he did to her, alright.

"You know, for my boyfriend I sure don't know that much about you," Lexie pointed out after a few more throws, their joking having subsided into near silence.

"Well, you've seen me naked, which counts for quite a bit." Lexie's face fell into a deadpan expression at Mark's statement, throwing the ball overhanded his way at a much stronger force than she had been previously. Instead of trying to hit it, Mark merely ducked out of the way. "Jesus, woman. It's a joke."

"I'm serious."

Mark shrugged, tossing the ball back at her. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

Lexie pursed her lips in contemplation as she cradled the ball close to her chest. There were so many things that she wanted to know about Mark; everything and anything were at the very top of the list. She didn't know very much about him when she though about it. Most of the time, when they were together they weren't doing much of talking about themselves, they were very preoccupied with something different. "I don't know," she deducted. "Everything. Anything." Lexie paused for a moment, rolling the ball in her hand. "Favorite color?"

She threw the ball his way, and he missed entirely due to the fact he was busy staring at her as though she'd lost her mind.

"What?" she asked, raising up both of her hands as she shrugged.

"Favorite color?" Mark repeated, throwing the ball back at her as emphasis. "Really?"

"Hey, you didn't say there were limits on this. I can ask whatever I want, and I chose the favorite color. So, go on," Lexie said, motioning for him to continue. "What is it?"

Mark sighed, letting the bat swing down and brush over the ground. "Men don't _have_ favorite colors," he groaned in protest. Lexie simply arched one of her eyebrows, staring at him and waiting for him to speak. "Fine, it's green. Happy?"

"Green like the grass, green like Kermit the Frog..." Lexie prodded, quizzical smile on her face.

"Do you know anyone who's favorite color is Kermit the Frog _green_?" Mark asked, a look of relative horror flashing over his face.

Lexie shrugged. "I don't know; it could be yours. I'm not knocking it."

Mark was quiet for a moment, twirling the bat in his hand. "Green like...green, I guess. I grew up in New York so I never saw too many real trees or a lot of grass; whenever I did get the chance to see the real thing I always thought it was fake. So I suppose like nature green if you really want me to be specific," he decided, looking ahead at her. "Your turn, Grey, what's your favorite color?"

"Yellow," she said almost instantly. "Like the color of a pineapple yellow, the one that reminds you of summer but isn't so blinding that you forget what direction you're walking in."

"You would be a yellow person," Mark muttered. "Doctor Sunshine." He shook his head, lifting the bat and pointing it at Lexie. "My turn to ask you a question."

"Make it a good one," she teased him, throwing the ball underhanded his way.

He hit it with a resounding 'crack', knocking it off past Lexie and forcing her to jog to retrieve it. By the time she'd come back, Mark seemed to have decided on his question for her, a smug sorts of smile riddled over his lips. "Alright, this one's a deal breaker: pineapples on pizza? They belong or no?"

"They're okay, I mean they aren't my go to but—"

"I don't know who you are," Mark declared dramatically. "This relationship is over, Grey—or, should I refer to you as your real name, Satan." Lexie laughed, mouth falling open in shock at his theatrics.

"You are a _child_ ," she told him, and he shook his head in defiance.

"And you are a monster, wanting to ruin a perfectly good slice of pizza with pineapple. Fruit does not belong there. Although, I guess I should have known better, you saying your favorite color was the same color of a damn pineapple."

Lexie rested a hand on her hip, propping the ball on it. "Well what kind of pizza do _you_ prefer, Papa John?"

"Look at me," Mark said, gesturing towards himself. "Supreme, meat lovers, all of the classics. Hell, the more meat on there the better."

"Okay, so fruit on pizza is a sin, but you're totally fine with a clogged artery on top. Perfect logic, Mark."

Mark grinned at her, holding out the bat in offering to trade. "Well, I am dating a doctor, so I'm not too entirely worried about me. You however, are not dating a doctor; all this crazy talk about pineapples on pizza isn't something I can just magically cure with my good looks."

Again, Lexie scoffed, meeting him in the middle. With one hand, she held out the baseball, and the other was already curled into a fist to playfully punch him in the arm. "You're ridiculous." He winked at her, handing her the bat as they traded places.

"My turn," she told him. She took a few steps backward, close to the same place where Mark had been standing. "How long have you been doing this?"

"Doing what?"

Lexie motioned at her own army-issue pants for emphasis. "This. The army," she said.

Mark glanced at the ground, rolling the ball between both of his hands. "Damn, Grey, you always go for the hard hitters."

Almost instantly, Lexie regretted asking the question just by the tone of his voice. Hindsight was screaming at her that asking something like that was out of bounds, even if she was rolling around in the army-grade sheets with him. It was a personal thing, even more so apparently judging by Mark's reaction. Her face fell, bat still hanging by her side. "I'm sorry," she quickly blurted out. "I didn't mean—"

"No, you don't have to apologize for it," Mark interrupted, rubbing at his chin. "I just haven't had anyone ask me that in awhile." Lexie stayed quiet, hardly moving as she let him take his time; it was the least she could do after practically forcing him to answer something it was clear he was uncomfortable discussing. "This is my second tour. I went to college for three semesters and then I enlisted. Wasn't for me."

"It's not for everybody," she agreed softly.

"Nope," Mark agreed. "I like this a whole lot better; I'm happier, I guess. Don't feel like I have to be the smartest guy in the room." He locked eyes with her, holding the ball up and waiting for her short nod of affirmation before throwing it. Lexie hit it, the satisfying sound of the ball bouncing right off the bat echoing through the clearing. She watched as he jumped up to try and catch it, missing it entirely and having to go trail off after it.

When he returned, he was prepared with his next question. "Your turn, Sunshine. What made you want to come over here and serve?"

Lexie could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Just like Mark, it was an uncomfortable question to be asked, mostly because of the answer that would come along with it. She'd been fairly diligent in keeping her reasons under wraps; most people didn't ask, and if they did she was pretty good at keeping it to the bare minimum and leaving it at that. "Just wanted a change of scenery," she mumbled automatically, eyes cast down at the ground as she propped the bat on top of her boot and started turning it in circles.

"Lex," she heard him say softly, forcing her to lift her eyes back up to him. He was looking at her, concern riddling his face. "You know you can tell me, whatever it is."

She took a deep breath, motioning for him to throw the ball. It was easier if she stayed distracted, and although he seemed hesitant at first, he obliged. "After I graduated I needed to get away from my family as soon as possible," she said, eyes locked on the ball as he wound up. "I couldn't be there in Boston with them anymore, I couldn't stay with Meredith...this just seemed like the best option. I'd get practice in, I'd be so far away no one could get to me, it seemed like a dream."

Mark pitched the ball, Lexie swinging and hitting it once again. His eyes were still fixed on her, giving her some sort of look that resembled worry. Pity, maybe. He caught the ball this time, and she shrugged when she realized he was still looking at her as though he was waiting for something. "That's why I wanted to come over here. Change of scenery."

"So you have two different families?"

"It's my turn to ask you a question," Lexie pointed out. He didn't argue, just simply motioned for her to continue.

She walked up to him, holding the bat out in an offer to trade. Mark handed her the ball and took the bat, walking back off to where she'd been while she contemplated what she was going to ask him. She was currently drawing a blank, and they'd quickly shot past any point of return to the joking, simplistic questions. They'd just gone straight for the hard-hitters, like Mark had said.

"Where'd you grow up?" she asked, settling on what she prayed was a safer question that was far away from the army.

"New York," Mark replied, swinging the bat a few times as he waited for Lexie to pitch. "Born and raised. Just me, too; Mother never had any more kids after me. I got very good at making friends, especially all the neighborhood girls." His joke lightened Lexie up just a slight bit. "Back to you; you have two different families?"

In one fluid movement, Lexie pitched the ball his way. He missed, not expecting her to come out of nowhere like that. "Yeah, Thatcher remarried before I was born," she replied. "It was me and Mom and Molly on our side up until...well, until we figured out Thatcher had a family before us. Married a hot-shot surgeon, had a daughter named Meredith who was a few years older than me. We aren't close, no joint family dinners or anything like that. Thatcher's first wife passed away back when I was sixteen, and then my mom passed away a few years later. Not much to sit around and talk about."

"I'm sorry," Mark said, straightening up with the ball in his hand as he tossed it back to Lexie. "I didn't know your mom had passed away."

"'S okay," Lexie replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "Not many people do."

"Why do you call him Thatcher?" Lexie returned his question with a pointed look.

"Why do you call her Mother? It's my turn to ask a question, not yours."

Mark sighed, motioning for Lexie to pitch to him. "I call her Mother because that's about as detached of a term as she'd let me use, the woman wouldn't let me call her Elizabeth. She didn't exactly come into the running for Mother of the Year...ever." He shuddered for emphasis, rolling out his shoulders as he leveled his batting stance. "Left her and never looked back. Haven't talked to her since I dropped out of college."

"I'm sorry," Lexie said, unsure of what else there was to say to him. If her apology bothered him in any way—hell, if he'd even heard it at all, he made no acknowledgement towards it.

"Why do you call him Thatcher?"

Lexie was quiet for a moment after catching the ball, bringing it in close to her chest and rolling it between both her palms. Her lower lip was entrapped by her teeth, pondering for the right words. "Same reason as you," she replied, her voice having dropped in volume. "He's not much of a father anymore, not really much of a _person._ Once he gets drunk, he's...a monster. Minute I got away from him I could."

Mark's eyes hadn't left her yet, burning holes in her forehead. In her mind, memories she'd long since pushed to the back of her brain were beginning to bubble up; how she'd tried to gently take the bottle of alcohol from her father's hand and it resulted in taking three showers trying to get the smell of vodka and glass out of her hair, how she'd stayed with friends as long as she could and dreading the moment she'd have to return home and face him. How she wore her long sleeve sweaters even in the warmer summer months to hide the bruises and wearing her hair down because her scalp still ached from an episode. How arguments turned into Lexie keeping quiet and crying in her car when Thatcher wasn't around whenever she noticed money from her college funds disappearing and fancy bottles of whiskey appearing in its place. How she prayed every night her father would just die of alcohol poisoning already, even if it was a terrible thing to ask, but she was beginning to wonder just how more of it she could will her way through. How she couldn't get out because the minute she swore she would, Thatcher would try to clean up only to come crashing down harder days, weeks later. How Molly, stupidly naive Molly continued to pile the responsibility onto Lexie's shoulders to take care of their still grieving father as she called it, because while she didn't believe any of his abuse was true, she was too greedy in giving up her life far away from home to come see for herself, leaving Lexie to fend for herself. How she'd tried so hard to forgive Molly, her baby sister, for something that wasn't her fault, something she'd never want Molly to get herself in the middle of, but had allowed so much of it to continue and get worse. She'd gotten away the second she could, and like Mark, she'd never looked back.

Sensing something was wrong judging by how she'd immediately retreated into her head, Mark let the bat fall to the ground with a dull clang and strode over to Lexie. Once he was within her atmosphere, Lexie felt as though she could breathe just a little bit easier, sighing almost on cue at the relief he brought.

"Hey," he muttered, bringing two fingers underneath her chin and tilting it up so her eyes were level with his no matter how she tried to avert her gaze. Instinctively, both of her arms went around his waist, pulling him closer to her. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Anything."

Lexie nodded, closing her eyes and moving so she was flush against him. "Back at you."

"I mean it, Lex."

"And I mean it, too," she replied softly, trying to hold her emotions at bay. Just because they hadn't spent as much time together as any other conventional couple didn't mean that Mark wasn't already her safe place to land in a rocky storm. He was chaotic, but god, was he comfort and a steady rock to hold onto when she needed him. Whatever she felt for him when he was around, it might have been love, but it went deeper than that. The roots touched more than just her heart at this point, and she wasn't sure if that was supposed to be a dangerous or a beautiful thing. "No more sad stuff, please. I just want to play baseball with you and talk about the happy stuff. Make fun of you and your heart attack pizza."

"Okay," Mark said, brushing a few fly away hairs out of her eyes. "Just happy stuff for right now."

She released her lower lip from her teeth, pulling herself up onto her tiptoes to meet Mark somewhere in the middle as she kissed him. It was simple, gentle, and quick, the perk of being out in the open where anyone could see them. It was a breath of fresh air though, being close to him and the smell of his toothpaste and laundry detergent flooding her senses in a delightful way. Lexie could feel the three words hanging there on her lips; it only felt natural to say them after a moment like this. Instinct, even. Instead, she kept it suppressed. No point in freaking Mark out, even if she was sure she saw the way he looked at her with the letters arranging themselves there in his eyes. It was a moment she didn't feel like ruining with her feelings, despite having so many of them it felt like she was going to break apart at the seams any second.

"Now, back to me kicking your ass," Lexie teased, her lips curling back into a full-toothed grin as she backed away from him, skipping backwards to where she'd left the baseball sitting.

Mark scoffed. "Excuse me? I think you're wrong about that one, Grey."

"Guess we'll just have to see," she sang, winking at him.

* * *

 **I hope this chapter gave you a little fill of Slexie that I feel I've been depriving you of for quite a little while! There will be a few more flashbacks like this between now and a certain point in the story that's...not going to be the kindest thing I've ever put my readers through, so don't worry! This is a Slexie story, after all. I also hope that this chapter kind of explains a little bit as to why Lexie (and Meredith) don't associate much with Molly or Thatcher any more, I didn't go into too much detail because it's something that'll be mentioned again in later chapters and I want to do that little part of the story gracefully. More answers are on their way, slowly but surely! Thank you guys so so much for reading, please review on your way out as it makes me smile and I love hearing from you guys. I don't know when my next update will be; I'll try to update this again before I go to California (WHICH I AM SO STOKED FOR) but if not I will see you guys very soon! Make sure to follow me on Tumblr and Twitter, both are on my profile, so you can keep in touch with me and scream about Slexie at all hours of the day. Love you guys much. xo**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Hi babies! I am back from vacation—California was truly lovely, I wish you all could have been there with me, and meeting Kelsea Ballerini was the highlight of my life—and I missed writing this story so dearly. Your reviews always make me smile and happy and I love love all of you, guest or not, for sticking with me. Don't know what I did to deserve ya. Anyways, insert my usual disclaimer here, and onward we go to the story!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

Lexie was careful in how she approached Meredith for the next couple of days; if she could help it, she only went to Meredith through Derek. Unlike his wife, he didn't seem to have any sort of problem with Lexie wanting to branch out and if there was any hell he wanted to give her, he wasn't openly broadcasting it. _There's nothing wrong in wanting something_ , Lexie kept reminding herself. _Even if Meredith doesn't agree._

Jackson and April had kept a slight distance after dinner failed royally, which was probably the best. That night had only gotten more awkward; it ended with Jackson coming out to the garage with paper plates of German chocolate cake on them, holding them out as a peace offering and a plea to be included since he'd been left in the midst of an awkward conversation between Meredith and Derek. The three of them sat in the garage, Jackson on the ground and April and Lexie in their respective chairs, eating their cake in silence until April made the point she'd left all her things inside and couldn't leave without them. Lexie stayed in the garage until she watched April and Jackson's car back out of the driveway and off into the night before she dared go back in.

She'd steered clear of the kitchen and went straight to her room, clicking the lock behind her. She'd take her chances dying in a burning house before she would deal with Meredith.

Even a storm cloud like butting heads with Meredith had its silver lining, though — Lexie was finally ditching her wheelchair for good and upgrading to her prosthetic full-time. Callie had her set to be on crutches for a little while longer while she continued doing her physical therapy in gaining back balance and accommodating to the prosthetic, but any little milestone was one she was grateful for. One step closer to the finish-line on just one of the dozens of marathons she seemed to be simultaneously running.

Derek unfortunately couldn't get off of work to take her, so Lexie was stuck with Meredith being her chauffeur. They'd had plenty of experience being around one another with tension swirling and avoiding conversation entirely, and this would be no different.

She was busy trying to braid her hair without the assistance of anyone else when her phone started to ring over on her dresser. Very few people had the number, and even fewer people bothered with calling. Lexie hadn't kept the cell phone she had prior to going overseas since it rarely served a purpose off in the desert other than an extra weight, and the only reason she had one now was per Meredith and Derek's request.

Sighing, Lexie let the last half of her unbraided hair fall as she moved a little closer in the tight space towards her dresser and reached out for the phone. She didn't recognize the number staring back at her, and she quickly slid the answer button before it went straight to voicemail.

"Mm, hello?" she muttered into the receiver, tilting her head down to hold the phone in place between her jawline and her shoulder as she picked up her abandoned braid.

"First of all, I'm offended you didn't call me and tell me today was the day!" Arizona's voice came ricocheting through the speaker, bubbly and jovial as she kept going. "Second, today's the day?! Oh my god!" Lexie couldn't fight the laugh bubbling in the back of her throat at Arizona's excitement.

"I thought Callie had already told you," she replied. "You are her right hand man after all. You knew my schedule before she did."

On the other end of the phone, Arizona huffed. "She thinks I'm trying to take all of her patients or something. Claims I already have a job on the peds floor. I told her I can't help that some people like my smiling face better than her scowl."

"She does not _scowl_."

"Okay, she's definitely not the happiest ray of sun you've ever encountered and you know it. And I can say this because Callie and I are close."

"Today I am not going to complain about Callie, she's getting me out of this wheelchair and that's all I really care about," Lexie pointed out, finishing off the last little end of her braid. "Are you coming today?"

"No, of course not! Callie didn't tell me you were even coming in until I saw it on her schedule; I'm telling you, she's trying to keep me in the dark so she doesn't have to give me part of her paycheck," Arizona rattled into the phone. Lexie frowned; while she'd always enjoyed PT way more than her therapy sessions with Dr. Wyatt, she'd only come to truly enjoy PT when Arizona was there.

Arizona, however, wasn't finished. "But, I do want to celebrate, so I'll be there to pick you up once you're done."

Lexie's eyebrows furrowed. "So, basically part two of the blind leading the blind?" she teased.

"Okay, _Callie_ ," Arizona groaned. "We're not going cliff diving, it's just lunch. Nothing dangerous about that, unless you aren't to be trusted with a fork and a dull knife. Besides, this is something worth celebrating and no offense, Meredith doesn't seem like the celebrating type."

Lexie scoffed as she slid on one of her tennis shoes. "Please, it's a miracle Zola's had an actual birthday party before."

"Well, when you get to PT, tell her to skedaddle and you and I will have a wonderful, Meredith-free celebratory lunch in honor of you becoming an android."

"I'm not an android."

"Only something an android would say," Arizona joked, her voice lowering. "I'll see you later. And Lex?"

"Yeah?" Lexie asked, peeling the phone out from between her shoulder and chin and holding it up to the opposite ear.

"I'm really, really proud of you," she said. Lexie didn't have too much time to let those words or the gentle tone in Arizona's voice sink in, because as soon as they rolled off her tongue, there was a click on the other end of the line and the phone call was over.

Meredith was lurking in the foyer, twirling her car keys around one finger absentmindedly as she scrolled through emails on her phone waiting for Lexie. She wheeled herself a little closer in the hopes Meredith would catch her moving out of the corner of her eye and keeping her from saying anything. Fortunately, despite their stark differences, they had the same father and therefore operated on something like the same wavelength, and Meredith sure enough turned to see Lexie. She didn't even nod before heading out to the car and holding the door open for only a second to let Lexie get out.

They might have been locking horns, but they were sisters, and there was no denying they'd built their own means of communicating (poorly but still) without any verbal language that seemed to work.

The ride was awkward, no surprises there, except for the heightened tension that had come after their previous fight. It was a never ending vicious type of cycle with Meredith and Lexie, it seemed; right when things seemed to be going okay, a wrench got thrown in the plans and everything got fucked up until Meredith came to her senses which had a rather lengthy period of wait time. She just wanted for her sister to understand and that was all, but it of course was much more complicated than that. About halfway there, Lexie realized she'd have to tell Meredith to go home, that the clouds wouldn't spell it out for her, and it took her a solid five minutes to build up the courage to even speak.

"Arizona's taking me for lunch after. You don't have to wait around," Lexie said quietly, her voice like a goddamn cannonball ripping through the veil of silence. It only left an even heavier tension in its place as Lexie tried to keep her eyes straight ahead, not looking over to see what her sister's reaction was.

"Okay," was Meredith's quiet and stiff response. It was enough to make Lexie want to sigh loudly and yank down on the emergency break and force Meredith to just spit it all out already so they could get over it, but she knew this well. Meredith was going to mull it over like fine wine and take all the damn time in the world she so pleased to get over herself, if ever and Lexie was simply going to have to ignore it and reach some sort of peace about it on her own, hoping Meredith would eventually come around or just move on entirely.

When they arrived at the back entrance of the hospital, Callie was standing outside waiting on them with a smile on her face that was megawatt. "Are you excited?" she asked Lexie giddily as she helped Lexie out of the van.

"Not as excited as you are, I don't think," she replied dryly. "I didn't know you were _that_ ready to get rid of me."

Callie rolled her eyes. "Oh, give me a break, Grey. This is the most positive emotion I've seen out of you since you and Arizona stole my wallet and went to the vending machines at the end of the hall."

Lexie glared at her, getting adjusted in her chair and rolling towards the door. "Okay, you make it sound like we were a bunch of rebellious seven-year-olds who snuck out of class." One of Callie's eyebrows lifted in retaliation, leading Lexie to ponder the thought for a moment.

She pressed her lips together thinly. "Rebellious _eleven_ -year-olds, then," she countered.

"Nuisances," Callie argued, the smile never leaving her face. It was the silent addendum of her almost condoning the relationship Arizona and Lexie had formed now that it was essentially coming to a close and getting out of her hair; it had been good for Lexie to act up, be mischievous even if she was a rule follower through and through. It had been good for Lexie to have a little fun.

The prosthetic leg was waiting for her on the bed inside their usual room, all that was missing in Lexie's mind was a giant red bow around it. It certainly did feel like the equivalent of Christmas judging by everyone's reactions to today and what it meant. Everyone's excitement, the phone calls, Meredith's general lack of care towards anything—exactly like any other holiday in her book.

"Alright, let's get down to business, shall we?" Callie asked, clapping her hands as the double doors swung shut behind her. "I hear you and Arizona have a lunch date after this."

Both of Lexie's eyebrows went shooting up towards her scalp. "You do?"

Callie looked over her shoulder, grinning. "It's kind of not hard to hear about things as they're being planned in the same room as you."

Lexie tuned her out entirely as she started going through basic care and other important things she'd need to know with the prosthetic and the crutches, too busy smirking in Callie's direction at the thought of her and Arizona. It wasn't any sort of secret that the two of them had something going on, but there wasn't much that they could fill her in on since she was still their patient at the end of the day. She'd had her ideas and her theories; there was nothing Lexie did better than observing and theorizing.

"I'm thinking we can go to every nine or ten days in between sessions now that you're on these crutches?" Callie thought out loud, helping Lexie out of her wheelchair and onto the bed so they could strap on her prosthetic. "Your sessions with Arizona had you doing pretty well when we left off, but I don't think a little extra practice could hurt you. And you need to be working on your own, trying to wean yourself off the crutches as much as possible. No doing—"

"—it by myself," Lexie finished for her. "I know. I like the rules, I follow the rules. No need to worry."

"And yet, somehow, I don't believe you."

Once Lexie got the prosthetic on by herself—per Callie's request, she wanted to be positive that Lexie could do it properly on her own—Callie brought the crutches out from her office and extended them to Lexie. She motioned for Lexie to stand, taking a step back to let her do it on her own but lurking at a careful distance should things go wrong. It was slow and shaky, Lexie equating herself like a baby giraffe standing for the first time and trying to figure out what to do with not one, but two legs once again. She took her time, and when she'd straightened herself out all the way, looking Callie right in the eye, both of them broke out into smiles.

Progress.

Their session didn't last long, they did a few half-laps around the room to get Lexie accustomed to walking with the crutches on her own. Callie had other patients to see since they weren't scheduled for an official session, and it only felt as though Lexie had been up on her feet for a few minutes when she heard the telltale honk of a car horn waiting outside.

Callie walked out with her, Arizona's SUV sitting right in front of the doorway with both hers and the passenger side window down. "Look at you!" Arizona called out, a smile on her face as she waved from inside her car. "Oh, and Lexie, you look really good, too."

Lexie frowned playfully as she climbed into the passenger seat, Callie hovering behind her the whole time. "I have crutches and I can whack you like a piñata if I feel like it."

"No whacking each other," Callie scolded, bending down and sticking her head in the window after shutting the door. "You two are danger enough to the other with your clumsy nature and the two very fragile, very _expensive_ prosthetic limbs between you, don't amp it up because you two decide you want to be lunatics for the day as well."

"You know, there _is_ a full moon tonight," Arizona pondered, glancing over at Lexie as she feigned thoughtfulness. "Who knows what craziness we'll get up to?" Lexie followed after Arizona, turning to look at Callie with a similar look on her face.

"'Bye, Calliope," Arizona said, a wicked grin on her face as she put the car into drive and started off.

Already, it felt as though a weight she hadn't even recognized had been lifted off her shoulders and floated out the window once Arizona had hit the gas pedal. Being with her brought about a similar reaction to how she'd felt back overseas in the desert: free, alongside _her_ people and the weightlessness that came with the knowledge that there was nothing in this world that could push down on her. _Untouchable_ , she thought to herself. She was untouchable, and that was certainly how she felt in the moment. Some song was playing quietly on the radio where she'd turned it down, the breeze from the rolled-down windows blowing through the loose and fallen hairs.

"Alright, what are you in the mood for, Grey? Italian, Mexican, a burger? Whatever you want, my treat."

Lexie pondered that question for a moment; this was the first time since Jackson and April had come to town that she could recall genuinely having an appetite, and she wasn't sure where it was leading her. They slowed to a stop behind a car waiting at the turned light, Lexie scanning the highway for some ideas. "There," she pointed off to the right side of the road at a sign in the distance, sitting up a little higher in her seat. "Let's go there."

Arizona glanced over at her for a split second, trying to keep her eyes on the light as her eyebrows furrowed together. "You're insane."

"You said it was whatever _I_ wanted."

She sighed, pushing back down on the gas pedal as the light flickered green. "I did."

Lexie smiled triumphantly.

Honestly, she wasn't sure why she'd picked it. Maybe it had to do with the freedom kick she'd started to acquire the taste of ever since Jackson and April had offered her a job, maybe it had to do with all those meds she'd been taking finally starting to wear down and away at her brain. The giant colorful sign on the building glowered down at them as they got out of the car, Arizona patient with Lexie hobbling over the pavement towards the doorway. "Can you even _go_ into Chuck E. Cheese without a child with you?" Arizona asked.

Lexie shrugged, stepping up onto the curb carefully. "Guess we'll find out here in a second."

They could, in fact, get into Chuck E. Cheese without a child present, even though it was widely frowned upon, especially by the teenage girl chomping on her gum that stamped their hands when they walked in. It was exactly how it looked in the commercials and in Lexie's childhood memories; the sound of fifty different arcade games talking all at once, the general emptiness save for the one or two families who were brave enough to bring their child there during lunchtime, the carpets with a pattern stolen straight from the nineties. It was a wave of nostalgia hitting her in the face as she and Arizona moved slowly through the place to one of the many empty tables at their disposal.

"I'm going to try to ignore the animatronic rat over in the corner because you're my friend and I love you," Arizona muttered, sliding in to the opposite side of the booth next to one of the windows they settled on. "But really, Grey, why here?" She stopped halfway through her slide, glaring. "Callie isn't paying you to get me around children so I can remember where my job is, is she?"

She shook her head. "No, she's not paying me. If she was, I would have suggested we come here for dessert when all the munchkins are getting out of school."

"Okay, then why here?"

Lexie shrugged, propping her crutches up against the side of the booth. "Dunno. Isn't this where most kids want to go when they're celebrating something? They're like, notorious for birthday parties."

"I think you're thinking of Disney World," Arizona corrected, turning over the cards that comprised their menu on the table. "This is like, bootleg Disney World. You come here to celebrate when you live too far from Disney or you just don't have thousands of dollars to blow on a mouse in a tux. You can get all the screaming children half price here, you just have a rat in a baseball cap."

"Their parents might not, but little kids have fun here," Lexie pointed out. "When you're turning five, or your mom wants to get you out of the house during the summer and it's too hot to sit anywhere else...all you worry about is how many more tokens you have to waste on skee-ball."

One of Arizona's eyebrows arched. "You want to waste twenty bucks on endless games of skee-ball?"

Lexie shot Arizona a look. "No. Like I could stand that long." Arizona shrugged in response as Lexie kept going, resting her chin on her propped up fist. "I'm just saying, it's nice to be somewhere that's lighthearted. Fun. Makes you feel like a kid."

The corners of Arizona's lips curled into the beginnings of a smile. "Now you know why I work with them."

They eventually settled on putting in an order for a pepperoni pizza, the equally-as-bored-as-stamp-girl waiter coming over only to give them cups to fill up at the drink fountain since apparently, staff couldn't be bothered. Arizona offered—more insisted, really—to go get Lexie's drink for her, leaving her alone in the booth waiting. There was no telling how long it would take for them to get it out onto the buffet, so she and Arizona had plenty of time on their hands.

It wasn't the best pizza Lexie had ever had in her life once it came, Arizona going to fetch that from the buffet too, but it did the job and something about it tasted a little more satisfying than the takeout at Pizza Hut. It probably had everything to do with the fact she felt like she was seven years old again herself, now that she had both legs back and the novelty of it meant there was novelty in everything.

"So," Arizona said as she grabbed another piece of pizza from the pile she'd brought back with her from the buffet—"What?" she'd said in defense when Lexie had glared at her, "There's no one else here to eat it, I might as well get my money's worth"—and dropping it onto her plate, reaching for the Parmesan. "You never did tell me how you lost your leg."

Lexie nearly choked on her Diet Coke; she hadn't done much talking about the incident ever since it had happened. Dr. Wyatt avoided it entirely despite having her medical records, and anyone who was the wiser didn't ask about it. "You don't have to tell me," Arizona rushed to add. "I'm just, you know. Curious."

She nodded, clearing her throat. She'd have to pick and choose her words carefully; her accident wasn't necessarily prime discussion material while in a place filled with singing animals and carnival-esque music. "Chopper accident. I was serving overseas, they asked me to go on a pretty routine assignment just to fulfill the medical personnel requirement on board and things went sideways. I don't remember much of it." That was a relative lie, she remembered a great chunk of the incident but was choosing to spare the details.

"Wait," Arizona said, shaking her head and leaning forward. "So you're the soldier Callie wouldn't tell me the name of that she was training?"

"I wasn't _technically_ a soldier," Lexie clarified. "I served in the good old med tent doing surgeries when they needed neuro or someone to treat a pretty basic injury. The works."

"Wait, you're a _neurosurgeon_?!" Arizona exclaimed. "I mean, I knew you were a doctor but I didn't know you were a surgeon. A freaking _neurosurgeon._ " She leaned back in her seat, taking a bite of her pizza as she sized Lexie up. "Huh. Guess I don't know much about you at all then, Grey."

Lexie could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. Arizona made a point, she supposed. She didn't do a whole lot of talking about herself anymore, like she used to. There had been a time where she could have talked and talked and drowned a whole room in her rambling, especially about herself. "You know, I don't know all that much about you either, other than that you're in pediatrics and that you lost your leg too. You said it was a plane crash?" she prompted, eager to throw the heat off of her.

Arizona nodded, even though her eyes had narrowed slightly and she was onto Lexie. "Yeah, it was," she said, taking another bite of her pizza. "Small plane too. It was something for work, plane was no good and it crashed barely thirty minutes into the flight. I broke my femur and they didn't find us for twelve hours, it ended up getting infected and they had no choice but to amputate against my wishes."

"Against your wishes?"

"Yeah. I told them they could cut my leg off when I flat-lined, but apparently I did? Point is, they cut it off even though I wanted them to save it. But what's done is done, I suppose. No going back now."

"Would you?" Lexie found herself asking. Arizona stared at her slightly puzzled, shaking out more Parmesan. "I mean, would you go back if you could? Go back, not get on the plane, whatever?"

Arizona set the glass jar back down on the table, lips pursing as she thought. "No. Not really," she answered after a moment. "If you'd asked me that while I was in rehab, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. Who wouldn't want both of their limbs and a lack of PTSD in their life? Having this changed me and it might not have been for the better all around, but it changed me regardless. I've been able to do things I really didn't think I'd be able to. If you've survived a plane crash, what _can't_ you do, y'know?" She was quiet for a moment, before glancing back at Lexie. "Would you?"

Lexie was quiet, eyes casting down towards the surface of the table. In her heart, she knew what her answer was, not bothering to think of anything else other than the fact that it meant she wouldn't be sitting in a Chuck E. Cheese with her new prosthetic limb and the world would still have Mark in it. "Maybe," she finally said. "I lost a lot over there, and life would be so different than it is now. I'd still have...certain people."

Quiet fell over them as Lexie put more of her attention into her glass of Diet Coke than she did the conversation. She could feel Arizona's eyes still on her, watching, probably wondering what else she didn't know since apparently, Lexie didn't talk much at all about herself.

"You know, I just thought about something," Arizona split the silence as she wondered aloud. Lexie looked at her, one of her eyebrows lifting in question. "We're sitting in Chuck E. Cheese talking about having our limbs amputated. Who _does_ that?"

For a moment, the two of them looked at one another, sharing equally confused and yet highly amused looks before they both erupted into laughter. Lexie thought she'd made a good point, but their amusement came from the fact that they _could_ laugh at it. They could laugh at themselves if they wanted to, and laughing at themselves served to be good medicine when put into practice. They were celebrating getting a prosthetic limb by eating pizza at a goddamn Chuck E. Cheese, for god's sake, what wasn't there to laugh at?

And god, did it feel good.

"To being two of the biggest children I've ever known," Arizona declared as her laughter died down enough so she could speak, lifting up her cup in a toast. "May we someday school all these little kids in skee-ball, and then when they ask the secret to our success, we tell them it's our robot legs."

Lexie smiled, picking up her own and clicking it against Arizona's. "To being children."

* * *

 **This chapter took a great turn but you know, it's alright. I'm glad to have this chapter out and away because now things should move a little more smoothly in terms of frequent updates! As always, please please please leave a review on your way out, if you don't do it for me then do it for Mark Sloan; I love hearing all of your thoughts and ideas and comments and whatnot. Next up, we have some more OT3 Japril-Lexie, and Meredith only _starts_ to come around. Love you guys much. xo**


End file.
